i'll search the sand, the sea, the sky but my failure makes me cry my losses make me want to sigh my terror makes me want to fly
i'll search the sea, the sky, the sand but it'll never reach my hand my thoughts'll be wonderful and grand but they'll all be lost within the sand
ill search the sky, the sand, the sea i'll make myself what i want to be i'll search my soul, i'll set it free but the lock just has no key
i'll search the evil, the hurt, the wrongs "just show me what my heart so longs!" my heart feels stabbed with many prongs and laughed at, and by many throngs
at the end of the day, my search will end for no one has the help to lend i have no happy life, nor friend just make this end, make this end!
but by the shore, i'll see a shell a shell shaped like a golden bell a shell, so hurt and broken, battered, this cracked conch gives me smiles unshattered
Last edited by yoshi on Mon May 03, 2021 12:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
what is this joy i feel? like the calm before a storm what's this content i feel? like the feeling before my heart is torn
i found it. finally it's back in my hands your respect for me is with me i already know where it lands
but then the winds pick me up send me flying send me up i lose control i flap my arms i see the cities, roads, and farms it spins me through the vicious storms and laughs at me with wispy forms i slap at wind i scream at air it rips me up and tears my hair bring me down! i tell the beast the storm just laughs i am it's feast it sends me higher through the sky i thought i don't know how to fly it breaks my soul it shatters my heart it reaps and chomps at every part i am resigned i'll just give in but it isn't done the wind will win the sky is free the clouds can see the pain of me and my sad plea i want to flee the ozone sea but it just can't ever be i'm smashed around by screeching squalls
until
the wind
falls
Spoiler! :
if you're subscribed to this thread, i apologize if you got quite a few notifications from here. i had a few *ahem* TECHNICAL difficulties with the formatting of this poem. But NEVERTHELESS i am done
It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story. — Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
keep writing poetry you great at it.
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