Dear Diary

Dear diary,

Another year has circled the earth,

soon will come the time of rebirth.

Fresh from the frost of death and dearth

comes a chance to discover our latent worth.

Oh, could I just sow the seeds of another life...

A livelier tale, worthy of the sacrifice.

Not this capricious fate, at so costly a price!

Taking my heart in exchange for a block of ice.

I've become the old photograph, faded and gray,

like the remnants of a bonfire, entwined with the wind. 

Transient as the dandelion, as it too blows away,

banished from a lonely world it never belonged in.

Call me deluded, call me a fool.

What need have I, to trust in you-

these rusted words, my cliched tool.

Take me somewhere old and pretend it's new.

A place displaced from dismal truth-

a buried fragment of forlorn youth.

Where every color is another view

of a landscape bathed in iridescent hue.

Waiting only for your eyes to see

again the way they used to be

when the world wasn't only enjoyed vicariously

but an entity to be cherished for Her vivacity.

Overflowing with the maternal capacity

to cradle you in the arms of sanctuary,

wrapped up in the depths of Her tranquility

when you so desperately needed a moment of clarity

to salvage those tattered threads of sanity

from the smoldering tapestry of your identity.

***

Dear diary,

What do you know of the soul that sings

the amaranthine song that haunts my dreams?

Whispers and echoes, with a familiar ring,

as it engulfs the night in a million stars' gleam.

Ensnaring my mind with a beckoning finger,

reaching from the world beyond the silver mirror

as it slowly glides across a sky of obsidian,

touching my heart, if only to see it quicken.

Conscripting my soul to her ethereal chorus,

painting her brilliance upon my empty canvas

so that I might again fulfill my promise,

and raise my voice against the din of silence.

Call me deluded, call me a fool.

What choice have I, but to trust in you-

these weary words, I fear too few

to have any hope of coming true.

But something keeps my hands from stopping,

despite the odds of accomplishing nothing

except perhaps for serving as kindling

for the next ragged soul that comes by, searching;

desperate for anything that could start a fire.

Let that blessed effort become my pyre,

for any candle my words might one day light

would make up for every single battle I fight.

The weight of these wings that allow no flight,

and the burden of a mind that's not quite right.

Every dreary day and sleepless night

spent begging for the first sign of sunlight-

I'd gladly suffer it all, if I knew I might

someday be the spark a flame needs to ignite.

So it's not to you, Diary, that I pen this final entry.

But to whoever finds these words, if I might be so lucky.

If you made it this far, that's more than enough for me.

Through your eyes, I am set free.

Reviews

[Chryiss]

"Take me somewhere old and pretend it's new." This evokes a sense of new nostalgia. For some reason, I really liked this "simple" line in a poem filled with imagery and color. Amaranthine... just lovely~
This is filled with delicious phrasing and dreamy melodies due in part to the rhymes and stanza form---actually the only thing I didn't like if I had to be picky, were the longer stanzas that weren't in four lines. Rhymes can be tricking, I myself dislike sing songy ones, and the longer stanzas somewhat felt like that due to the same sound being rhymed.
Regardless, I thoroughly enjoyed this and the beautiful word choices and visions. Lovely work~! :)

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

thanks for entering into the real me poetry comp, stil judging this weekend, lots of entries, thanks for this amazing poem

[writ rajat]

amazing you are the winner

[Nolo Segundo]

A MAGNIFICENT POEM! What better adjective is there for words that can take you into another person's soul, while at the same moment showing you your own?