Darkness - Poem by Melonie Andrews
As i sit here all alone in the middle of nature surrounded by the fumes of oak trees and the fragrance of wet grass. Through the whispering of the winters wind and the 'tug, tug' of a rusty door it almost feels like the door needs to tell me something of an old couple who's life's they might have lived here for many years. The hum of the wind on the porch outside the leaves and trees singing through joufulness of the coming of the rain, waited for so long.
The fair pictures of nature in this old cottage remind me of the beauties once out there. But where did it go? Or do i not see the beauty of life anymore? I have walked this life with eyes wide open but the selfishness of my inner being could not open my eyes to love. Love once had and lost. What more do i want from life if i cannot have the only love i want? Still life with all its fabulous surroundings and enchanting sceneries cannot open the human eyes from wandering?
The silence of this cottage feels almost unbearable not a sound to be heard of no human footsteps or laughter. Only the poor rusty fire to keep me company but it seems he had his share of warmness, if he to leave me as well where am i to go for alone in darkness i cannot bare. I had to live the human life alone with no one to keep my hand or whisper sweet innocence in my ear. The horrors entrance me the fear of loneliness en capture me and soon i will be leaving this world of light.
And so my journey begins, with painfulness of living the years to come all alone in the darkness. The worries of a broken wind shell, a chair that need to be fixed, and my heart that will need to be mended all of this i need to do by myself? Why they ask is life so cruel others have found what they have been surging for and live a fulfilled, happy life.
Just as Cinderella who dreamed of her prince charming's rescue i am dreaming now but her knight in shiny armor has come to her rescue but mine, will he ever capture my tear in his hand and set me free from this lonely cottage and live with me like the old couple who once lived here? Will i ever have the memories i envy of so many people or shall i have my own?
The old cottage i will have with me forever the stories it tells me keeps me from giving up on life. The 'tug, tug' of the old rusty door with its sound it knocks on the door of my soul. The sound of the wind's getting clearer it's almost if it sings a lullaby for me, 'Sleep in peace my child for your journey of Love is yet to begin. The joyful rain will come your way to wet the soul fo your heart, awaited for so long! '
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