Heavy Burden

 

Heavy Burden

 

I need to glance into your eyes,

And you know my love-

Only this is where I truly come alive.

What can I tell you?

Save for that this dark environment,

Is uncanny, cold, and cruel,

All the crickets chirping,

Making a melody of the black,

And yet I cannot hear what was meant,

Because I sit down, and my ears close,

At the tune of their lively dance.

 

Soon, the music stops,

And I’m looking for the rags,

That leak into my heart,

Filled with the fresh liquid-

Of a revolting egg-yolk purpled,

Dripping through my blood,

Because I-

Can only stare at the moon now,

Which peeks through folds of blue sashes-

Dragged through a sun-

That no longer gives heat,

Because it has hidden for the night,

Within the shades,

Of an indigo beauty,

That became a heavy point of pivot,

Which turned the sky around forcefully-

And then brutally,

Pulled a moon forth and pushed it upward,

Forcing our reconciliation.

 

Oh, why does everyone think that I-

Can possibly make amends to the smiling moon,

For even he cannot give me the full light,

And the crickets beguile me,

With their handsome music,

That which I cannot hear-

 

Because-

 

I no longer know you.

Where are you?

 

I sit out here in the darkness,

Desperately trying to hide,

Wishing for one last kiss in the black glow,

And the touch,

That will make my heart beat again,

Replacing the rags of yolk-

With something so careful,

So infinite and so fragile, that-

No one would ever be able to tell,

It replaced this heavy burden . . .

 

Except for me.

Reviews

[David Scott]

Complex and exploratory. I think my take home was how can I get out of my own way?
Not a light read.

[Foxemerald]

Very complex, yes. The moment has passed, but . . . when I review it . . . I realize that I was writing from a darker channel indeed. Thank you kindly =)

[David Scott]

We all have a "dark channel". We all feel the weight of our conditions and those around us. Just writing it out on paper seems to draw a measure of the burden off our shoulders.

[Foxemerald]

That is quite true. It is a heated but nevertheless enaging process, that takes an immense amount of emotional energy.