seeing | looking | feeling | knowing …
seeing,
through fading eyes,
looking,
yet unable to see,
feeling,
suffocating fears,
knowing,
these are not to be the last of the tears …
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seeing | looking | feeling | knowing …
seeing,
through fading eyes,
looking,
yet unable to see,
feeling,
suffocating fears,
knowing,
these are not to be the last of the tears …
barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,
with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,
soothing pained memories away,
to the swaying of a solitary palm.
barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,
feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,
on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,
yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,
as the tide cleanses all pain,
and leaves despair far, far behind.
barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,
drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,
that hushes the ache of bygone moons,
tasting the salty tang on my lips,
as the burnished sun,
over the distant horizon,
swoons,
and dips.
barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,
searching, ever searching,
for a slice of solitude,
as memory bids a final adieu,
reaching under the sea so vast,
and seeking comfort in the depths,
while embracing,
the tomorrows to come,
wishing that they be true.
barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,
seeing my truths drown,
as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,
feeling my heart ablaze,
with a passion that rarely falters.
barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,
yet knowing that I am home at long last,
wishing the waves would wash away,
the defences that once stood,
like an impregnable wall.
barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,
I have found,
at long last,
my final port of call …
beyond words,
mere paltry scribbled verse,
rolls across empty streets,
while today crawls to a fade,
as night descends,
offering comfort,
the solace of anonymous shade …
A New Dawn …
shackled,
the noose tightening,
stealing promises,
of tomorrows yet to be born,
yet still,
hope takes root,
offering solace,
a glimpse,
of a less harsh tomorrow,
as the moon resigns itself,
to the embrace of the coming dawn …
The Manic Scribbler
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