Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Emotions War

When I was little and very new,
My mother would tell me a story,
Advice to help you live.
She says there is three things you need,
A heart, soul and a shadow,
And to not make plans with witches.
Even though she said it was three,
she would always say four things.

As I grew and wondered my town,
On the corner of my eye,
I saw a woman,
And has a cloak black as the hole in the wells,
Wells that never end,
Forever to the bottom of the Earth they go.
But as she disappeared,
I grabbed my chest in pure horror,
And down my body went like a stone.

Deep in my insides,
Emotions started to go in war.
Sadness cries,
Happiness is on the run.
Anger rules the land,
Love is dying in the abyss of fire.

Joy is in hiding,
Fear is creeping in every shadow,
And I,
The Soul of the body,
Is in the chains of my emotions.

As I walk across forbidden fields full of thorns,
And seas that cut even fresh skin,
Forever blocks my way out of the past,
The ghost I wish to escape from as I run,
Farther and farther,
My feet directs me.
And faster repeatedly,
My heart skips beat.

As I now travel distance lands,
Like the nomad I've become,
I've also adapted the skill of observance.
I see children laugh and play with their hearts,
And parents holding close to their spirits.
I clench my dress as I bite down my lip,
As I only thing I have is my shadow left.

I have no more heart as I gave it to the witch,
For she said she could help me with my issues of my past,
But she burned my heart in the hearth she laid on the dirt floor.
My grave for the emotions I have no more,
Yet I still cry sour tears.

I even lost my soul to the wind.
As the ghosts still haunt even if I gave my heart,
They grabbed my insides with claws and talons.
As they gorged on me,
 My blood danced around on the ground.
They quick stepped as they slowly went into a passionate rumba,
I can't feel the pain as the ghosts physically pull and tug.
Then in the vanish of the world,
My soul was taken hostage by the hunters of the dead.

Now with my feet dragging the shadow,
I cover my face with the hood of grief,
Hiding the misery,
"I should have listened to my mother".

On the green fields that hurt my bones with their glow,
I release my hands to the grey sky,
Now my pale and scarred face to the universe,
Fully exposed.
Nothing to cover it to the burning sun of truth.

And soon my upper body is highlighted red,
As a knife is hanging around my neck.
But it doesn't touch a vein,
Nor any artery,
But at the chains that dragged me down.
I slash open the chains of my hands,
I break open that hang on my ankles,
And tear apart the choker on my neck,
As I suddenly turn into bird of a feather,
A white feather,
When the chains fall to its surroundings,
And sent my shadow flying to the stars.

But as I look upon this,
I stare above in the sky,
A never ending place for the strangers,
And of course,
The Unlucky ones.