We Are All The Same, Our Choices Make Us Different. Poem by Cynthia Osta

My poetry speaks for me and my poetry never spoke about you.
Never were you the source nor inspiration of any of my happy, warm or dear experiences.
Never did you spring a fountain of sweet emotions.
Never did you appear in the picturesque side of my love.

You drank from my fountain,
You soiled my cascade,
And then you obstructed my source.

Yet magically life was back in my heart,
someone else leaped over and above the contaminated currant,
and brought spring back
after raining loads on the terrain of my heart.

That which you left unattended for seasons and years.

Life happened again, birds sang, fresh water flowed and I saw me smile once more.

Yet your proximity managed to disturb the peace,
and bring back the cold winter cold.
A freezing wind you breathed into my spring.
The trees lost their leaves
and the birds stopped singing
they left and the water froze.

But listen well,
in games and lies every season has an end
and yours is about to meet its.

I'm taking my heart to a land of eternal summer.
A summer I am capable of nurturing,
a summer I belong to,
a summer I look like.

I will leave you with your beloved darkness
to freeze as you decided to in your deadly cold turmoil
of lies, selfishness and arrogance.

I will go with my humility lay under a cherry blossom
and gather the flowers falling gracefully
in moments of gentleness
as life will naturally flow as it's supposed to be.

I will leave you forcing yourself on life
like an aberration aware of itself.
An aberration aware of itself arrogantly desiring to stain
the perfection around, the perfection of nature and love.
Faking emotions,
simulating care
and destroying faith.

You've made your choices and I'm now making mine.
And mine differ from yours not like winter differs from summer.
Because these don't,
they're one and the same
and make a cycle of life what it is: perfect.

We however differ like time and eternity;
one doesn't exist and the other never ceased to.

In my farewell
I will wish you all the luck and blessings you deserve.
And you deserve them all for a possibility to redemption.
Take all the blessings of the world,
you need them the most.

It is true that some people generate love
while others feed on it.
and its fine
because the source of love never drains out.
Love is eternal and feeding on it is time bound.
Love procreates on its own,
love is the source of everything,
love is eternity, love is the blessing,
and love is the only reality.

Love I gave you, l
ove I felt for you,
love, I always will,
but, from a land of summer.

Hoping one day you decide to drop your chains
and meet the humble humans
where love procreates on its own and start being yourself the source
instead of the dark hole.

We are all the same, our choices make us different.