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By ItsDanGuy Date: 2010 Feb 15 Comment on this Work [[2010.02.15.22.32.24194]] |
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There I was amid the streets; A chisel lay in hand. The heart I found was a broken one; A cracked and weathered piece of land. None the less, she prized this place; A symbol of her past. Too much hope to let it fade, Yet too much pain to let it last. Wake up, walk, wait and look; Every day the same. It seemed as if her only constant Lay flat on ground, unchanged. The first stroke leaves my hand, Determined to makes it's mark, But I'm no master of this craft; The score is deep and dark. "What are you doing?" she asks of me. "My heart!" she screams out loud. "It will surly die if you don't stop- If you don't stop right now." Each stroke is shocking, each mark uncertain. Destructive thoughts pass your mind. Though afterward the pain's replaced by strength and will to find Relentless and unwavered, I continue with my task. I may slip up, but the goal is clear, I follow through - start to last. "Wake up," I whisper softy as a short and simple prayer. "Walk, wait, and look for me. I will always be right here." The dream fades out and life fades in; The pillow wet with tears. She wakes in earnest panic, and rushes to her fear. There it is again like always; The symbol of her past. "forever" ... that is all it reads, and forever ours will last. |