The Vally of the Blue Heart

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A wall, a face your facade
something you can overlook but not breach.
peer over into whats inside, but never truly see to the bottom.
if you care to scale the walls and observe - what do you see?

A young pool, that is light to the surface,
yet dark in the depths monsters and caverns
and it is behind this wall of water that i swim
when it was built it was there for something else - but the purpose has betrayed

once a valley of beauty and cheer
a small brook spewed forth from a spring
and it was beyond this valley the wall was built.
why this damned wall?

because the valley i enjoyed was scorched
burned by the hatred of those before me
I like Adam walked and beamed at all before me
I lost myself in the wonder of God's graces and love

The green and gold, would blend together in
a glorious symphony of color
birds roost in the trees peeping at the cheerful days
and it was the orchestra of peace that enveloped my very soul

happiness i have never felt before, built
on the foundations of somthing great,
it couldnt see its own beauty,
so sad

it was the root, my root and the muse
that couldnt help but be
why God? why this?

why did the music stop?
again God? why did it stop again?
why did the colors fade?
what did i do?

A year before
another Vally met the same fate,
and pain like i had never felt
a hole in my chest

and that wall so solid
built of Musical Mortar
Rejected Rebar
and Cold concrete

my river overflew onto the other side
where it never should have been
the muse left and the valley burned and died

i miss my valleys, i built the wall
to quench the fires, but instaid
i ruined any chance of it regrowing
i buried it all under a Ocean of blues

This wall, it lets some through,
it has some control holes
its more forgiving, and the
wall may not give way

but my muse is gone and here
is where i sit, in the center of the ocean
waves crash around me, and i think back
to what i had lost, i miss the valley

i miss the muse and how
her hair reflected the very essence of color
her teeth whitelike,
the summer clouds we would spy on from far away on the ground

The light would shine on our faces
warm like when our hands were embraced
and the cool of the rains that fell on us when
we would kiss in the storms

but the birds are dead
the Trees are awashed
the sunlight cannot pervade the depths
and my muse has gone

I wish it would have been me,
i almost drown
but damn i can swim, i built a raft of the trees
and i look for a new valley, i cant help but look back

and i think back to realize
she is gone, and i never really had a fair chance
but its okay because its happened and i cannot change it
i will miss you, and i will scream my heart out, and that will be it wont it?

Goodbye my valley
im sorry for the pain
im sorry dear garden i wont be back again
for the place is filled
and buried dead
the fiery words that once we said

but if my past should linger and haunt
if only seems just to taunt
God give my heart rest at will
and know my friends i miss it still

(after though)

This note, i sat here for an hour trying to figure out if i could post it, if i should
i was asked to stop but its the only thing that makes it easier, its how i deal, its how i cope
i cant be everything, i never could, i want good enough, and i wish i was, so i am going to drown in music that is so loud i can hear the musics thoughts, to taste and smell and touch the melodys, because its the only thing i have ever loved more. Music will always be there for me, and if was to ever go, i would be dead soon after. I love the time we had i miss it so much, i miss the openness and the passion, and i wish to God that i was what you wanted, but Men plan and Dream god laughs and smiles.
A heart that can bleed
a hand that can write
a mind that can conceive
That is why we are here

we are alive
we are human
we are poets




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Gender Male
Points 189
Reviews 333
The repetition of muse is very effective and it draws the reader in.
From reading this it creates things quite visual in the readers head.
It has made me think about things in my life and made me think about old memories which i am thankful for.

Truly excellent. Well done
'I have loved to the point of madness, which for me is the only true way to love'
~Francoise Sagan



Human minds are more full of mysteries than any written book and more changeable than the cloud shapes in the air.
— Louisa May Alcott