Walkers of Tides

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Beneath stars, here I know I have traveled to far.
Lately I have been forcing the purity of beauty I have gathered over the years away into hiding. I have been lost to its control and therefore my being is not governed by it any long. The night is so very young when its thrown into the wind by the tip of the tongue.
Everything is promised, everything is sworn.
In the beginning we are caught by the wind of emotion, and held by the wings of innocence.
So what is this trick of trades we have fallen upon to help us stand straight and firm to the floor? It makes us stand and sing and shout, but our voices are faded. I have forgotten the words from the songs of the ages.
Knelt down upon a dry earth beast, mouth full of sand I’ve sprouted hope for a moment, though something wrong is easily noticed. Something has befallen the gods.
Have I failed you my loves? Have I been released from this fear? Has it just hidden away with beauties decay?
Sit very still here beneath the window sill, try and fall to our birth.
The stars have always been home to me, how I write to blind eyes and only they see.
How my love does it feel to live to be free of worry and despair that is as familiar as the warmth of the womb.
I attest to your fever madman, catching waves at your backs; Will our selfish ego fade with the tide?
Worry climbs mountains of heat for those I love, our paths still yet to be unearthed by the wavering sky, our fading lies left with the sands of time.
So very young now, I once was old; How have I grown so cold?
I was told in dream of the fall of the sun with the moon, both leaving us all alone.
Your life is far too important isn’t it? You are kept in it’s embrace with the hope of its comforting howl.
You keep away from the narrowing tree’s of dreams, finding far to late that you rest in the garden of leaves.
The wanting rope, for a new hope.
You must struggle in your own world, just to be denied in theirs.

Submitted: July 09, 2011

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