Triste.

as delicate and fragile as a leaf
like an ancient rock wall about to crumble
half moons underneath my eyes
gazing into the beyond
Triste.
slumping as I walk
invisible to everyone 'round
my arm is full of scars
a record of my pain
Triste.
crying in the stillness
locked alone
falling from a tree as quiet
as a feather
calm
Triste.
tears fill my eyes
watering me as if was a feather
happiness? what is happiness?
I have not heard of it!
Triste.
this is all because of you
you
make me cry
laugh while I'm in pain
here
you got me
you won
Triste.
dark 
dark
you
heart is a rock
while mine is a feather
a cold blue feather it is
beautiful
as a peacock
Triste.
a heavy feather it is
carrying 'round all those sorrows
in the world
my heart must get tired
Triste.
soon I'll be fading away
into the mist
the hair in my brush
the scent in my clothes
will be the only record of my life left...
Triste.

Reviews

[David Scott]

This is an interesting view of a "triste"... I like the thought of being a feather, but it is sad to think a "rock" was all the other person ever was or will be...
A light lamenting. A fine lament nonetheless.

[Ma'at]

thank you for your kind review.