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Elm Walks Poem
I had a thing of many evenings dreamt,
A place, like treasure, where i sometimes went
To think, to dream, where feel myself i could,
To be so true i doubt i ever would.
This place, where i was feeling the most safe,
Where there was no need to be shy or brave,
Where it was warm, whether there's sun or snow,
The place, that somewhen i thought i would show.
The place, where all kind beings took their birth,
That could be claimed the heaven on the Earth,
Its walls were made out of the hardest stone,
The place, where i could truly be alone.
This neatest place, for that it was all mine,
It warmed my soul, far more than earthy rhyme,
I took it all for granted, and relaxed,
While tops of outer walls, they were collapsed.
I didn't notice, and i kept on play,
In sweet ignorance went another day,
The walls, that once kept people from my heart
Began their shrinking, starting shard by shard.
The first time cold wind blew inside that place,
I was surprised, for me that was amaze,
For i had no idea how to fix
Those walls, that then were missing precious bricks.
I ran in circles round those damaged walls,
Through gaps another nasty monster crawls,
Invading, once the safest, sacred piece,
And leaving it all covered in disease.
Another circle, stopped by main gate,
I saw the damage, hard to estimate,
The moment i could gain back my trust,
I ran, leaving the place in dirt and dust.
I strayed another day, another week,
Exhausting it became, to always seek
For place, by slightest chance could be compared
With one i had, with one that i impaired.
Without having anywhere to go,
I started my way back, the far and slow,
With only hope - that in the end, at last
I could redeem mistakes made in the past.
To my surprise, in where the ruin stood,
The ruin that i left, though never should,
Was a huge castle - like i never saw.
Only its look would make me freeze in awe.
As i first tried to walk inside that place,
In voice, unmerciful, yet full of grace,
It spoke to me, as enemy i was:
"Without you into stronghold i rose.
The time you left me to corrupt and rot,
You took your way with no having a thought.
Now go, ignorant stranger, past my door,
For you are not a welcome guest, no more".
Since then through desert of the burning sun
I walk, and grudge the things i haven't done,
Life-long reminder - skin that sun could burn:
"It's never coming back. It won't return".
-Elm Walks, 2016
Copyright © Elm Walks | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Elm Walks Poem
For once, to love - i wanted,
To be loved back.
This wish was overwhelming, i admit.
There was a time of desperately looking
For someone, who could get my cold heart lit.
Time flew, the thought
Of never finding person,
Whose inner world would match itself with mine
Devoured me, and every other evening
Would slowly transfer into sleepless night.
The neverending worry,
The disturbance,
They rent my mind likewise a rusty knife.
The feel of unaccomplishable mission,
It never let me live my own life.
I roamed around, and looked for
That one special,
I was in search of basic understand,
Of willing to commit, as much as i would,
However, having nothing in the end.
It took a year, however,
Quite a long while.
That time would gift me worthy note to take:
That claiming "finding person" is a mission
Turned out to be a perishing mistake.
I left my tries, abandoned
All my effort.
At nights of no sleep all i could think of,
A thought, that through eternal time existence,
Would never i get the idea of love.
Time went, i moved along,
My life was steady,
Any big deal - not worse, than morning clock.
And when i suddenly first met her on my way home,
The wall, that kept me calm - in shards, it broke.
Losing myself, losing
Control, and temper,
For acting here was out of my eyesight.
It killed me after, in the later future.
Now only, understood i was not right.
The easy way to learn -
Mistakes of others -
Has never worked in such a gentle play.
When making step's like walking through the mine field,
You know that you are doing it wrong way.
The end. All calm. At least,
Making it look like.
Inside of me, it burns like in the stove.
For once, to love - i wanted, to be loved back,
Though never getting the idea of love.
-Elm Walks, 2016
Copyright © Elm Walks | Year Posted 2016
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