everyone is a moon and has a dark side they never show Pale lunar prescience Eavesdropping upon the night Impartial witness Many tales do not tell They gloss over struggle and embellish triumph, They speak only of that quest Into an ancient castle To find a long lost treasure To rescue a love meant to […]
The Darkness Within #haibun
I really love this post. Please don’t forget to visit the original post. I’m planning to feature this in my other blog which is about scary stories.
Why do sadness fill a poet’s canvas?
There are words of love
But most of the walls are filled with tears of hurt
Of scars from fighting fears
And the canvas is blank once more
What will it be filled this time?
He wrote his story in black and white
Told everyone of lies
Because he was afraid they’d know the truth
Convinced himself to walk away
Because he was afraid of my love.
And that’s how his story relates to mine
The story was told and so it ended
I reread it a thousand times,
Or maybe more.
So the pages again I turned
Carefully my mind took it all
As my imagination flew
What is the story all about?
How do you write it?
Where to begin and where to end?
Armed with a pen and a mind full of imagination
Your power is limitless
I am the listener
The one who understands
I am the one they run to
But no one holds my hands
When it’s my time to share my story
Who will be there to listen?
I sometimes sit and just wonder
What became of us
We might not have found each other
Or we may have but made too little fuss.
I wonder if you wonder if I exist, if there is really a “destiny”
And if you do what could have been, had I chosen you
I wonder what you’d share to me
I wonder about your story
I wonder if your wondering why we haven’t or never met
He told me a story
One about love and humor
He smiled in a way I’ve never seen before
His eyes wide and excited
A thrill in his voice
He talked about love
But it was one not to be mine
I used to write about poetry
About love, why I’m happy
Now, it seems I’m always in agony
Sharing about misery
Maybe I lost my touch
As I drifted away and such
Maybe I never really had much
He’s in books
On pages and my thoughts
He’s smart and annoying
Arrogant yet humble
Human enough and yet, still a dream
Where for art thou?