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Fenna Capelle Nov 2019
Bound for the void of nothingness a ship had once set sail
Embarked in peaceful doubts and willful ignorance
Merely lead by a play, both boisterous and frail
A play of waves, of storms, a dance!

Yet with time the sea's bounty became a teacher
Testifying the bleeding which is her love
It is still there she sails, a ship at open sea
As long as in the darkest night there'll be some stars above
Fenna Capelle Oct 2019
And all I heard was time's soliloquy
That truce of answers yet the will to fight
An act of echoes, scene of enmity

All time is, is a stage for history
So, rest soul, in the knowledge that all is right
And all I heard was time's soliloquy

A player dressed in flowers came to me
In a golden splendour with rays of  light
An act of echoes, scene of enmity

Hence second came, costumed abundantly,
The gaudy herald of the stagely night
And all I heard was time's soliloquy

An actor in white attire blinded me
With eyes so dark that they would shame the light
An act of echoes, scene of enmity

Life flows where it can't go, till it be free
And bloomed at the play's end, ne'er seen so bright
And all I heard was time's soliloquy
An act of echoes, scene of enmity
Fenna Capelle Nov 2019
Even the cracked reed shall not break
And each road to a destiny shall lead
And spreads the sea its waves
While from his waves its effect he takes

Shall not I then be spared
This world exists by grace
For if not, how could we have shared
Nature's changing, untrimmed gaze
Fenna Capelle Dec 2019
Yet when in autumn a leaf -long worn out-
On the wings of wind falls down and twirls
The air it catches is carried about
And won in power until it fanned a hurling gale

It destroyed all he laid his will upon
And all beauty that once rose a victim to his reign
Yet in these depths of decay, new life had begun
In the peaceful eye of this hurricane

New life flourishes in the middle of its most dreaded fight
For when calmness perched upon this raging of extremity
One bright flower still bloomed in all its pride
And immortalised the barrenness of hope with eternity
Fenna Capelle Oct 2019
His soul called upon him to go astray
And there learned to love and bear empathy
Therefore in that intention he pursued his way
The way of art, the road of dreams, the beauty of poetry

It will be there that he shall meet me soon
As I will walk with him until the path is almost gone
And pluck the silver apples of the moon
And the golden apples of the sun
Fenna Capelle Nov 2019
Upon the fallen ruins of history
Roses will always bloom
Those crumbled stones shall be adorned
The tempest laughed at, the decay scorned

There the rose's thorns flowed into beauteous red
Which watered with hope will always exist
Thus through abundance famines will be fed
And thriving on the native course of time they will persist
Fenna Capelle Oct 2019
An illusion had sprung out of a well
And from the very same we all quench our thirst
In years it has already made many dwell
And I, in chasing this illusion, will not have been the first

It was blinding in all the light I didn't see
Until I learned how misfortune had treated me right
That illusion had been cloaked by invisibility
And vanished when I returned to sight
Fenna Capelle Dec 2019
I witnessed the ignition of the past
And an astounding fire it had been
For the flames twirled and danced, and cast
The most fiery of their beings on the scene

I was drawn towards it for its  elegance
Even gracefulness seems to have faded into a memory
For the moment I reached out, the fire quenched
All that but seems cannot bear substantiality

I now found warmth by the ashes of that fire
And hope in the nostalgia of the ignited
Yet I longed for the flames, though it is a fool's desire
To walk in dreams and let your ways with that be coincided
My dreams wrought me a ship on which I embarked  
In want of an island that lay in the  comfort of solitude alone
And amidst all hopes, illusions and dreams to hold onto
I set foot upon this island and had soon made it to be mine own

It became the fortress of my very mind
And I watched it fill itself with all sounds, colours and odours
That the power of imagination is but heir to
And to which it slowly made me subject

If nature is a reflection of the human soul
Then a human hand will show itself in sweet flowers and the mystery of the darkest wood
The oblivion of the deepest sea

Yet then the solitude and desolation of my island
Woke me up from dreaming
And I was left with nothing but the illusion in the mind of a displaced refugee
That still lives in his own world; this island of his imagination
A shimmering lake in moonlight lay
Under the watchful eye of some mighty trees
A swan resided there, bound to the water through the passing of her days
Yet her appearance so compounded with grace and majesty

But every evening, as darkness fell upon this solemn scenery
And a thousand stars shaped the contours of a shapeless night
This graceful swan turned into the very substance of mortality
And became a girl, dressed in beauty faint and white  

As a man lost himself in wandering on one dark and misty night  
And panic blinding as the fallen night began to lead his tread
He happened upon this hidden lake; an illusion to his restless sight  
And heard the soft singing of a girl that roamed about the riverbed

And between them love did grow, sprung from the seeds of unexpectancy
And both gave up their hearts to this fair and loving night
Yet rising dawn lighted the way for sheer reality to see
That all things must once dissolve and come to light

For when daylight perched upon the lake, this girl became a swan once more
And being tied to the water, set her ability to love to bounds
Yet every twilight remembered her what she had been loving for
It is in the burning pain of the  impossibile that a love most fiery is found

And uncounted years they lived; years of love and purest grace
Never does sincere love consign to what the course of time can take  
For when it took the swan's white feathers and the pale beauty of her face    
She lay tenderly enclosed in the shimmering moonlight on a solemn lake
Fenna Capelle Oct 2019
I wanted to bring order to the archive in my head
There I found a paper gravely wrinkled
Forgotten and unread

Long have I denied and altered its appearance
And kept it orderly away from sincere reality
But the unread became known with all its clearance
When the world on the paper opened up in front of me

And the blinding light that paper carried out
Struck me with indefinable surreality
A world that was neither glorious nor proud
But still a part of the archive inside of me
Fenna Capelle Nov 2019
I have been a lone wanderer for many a year
When the land was thirsty and the well was dry
Long have I roamed through solitude and tears
But the sun dried those tears as time went by

For even the lillies in their fair embroidered wear
Are as blessed as the certainty that the sun will rise each day
Should I then, the wanderer in despair
Not be blessed with an embroidered coat along my way
Fenna Capelle Jan 17
A river ran through a golden wood
That lay bathed in the peaceful fall of eventide
And two streams sprung from it as I stood
And watched them meandering into the light

I found a place to quench my thirst
And kneeled down on the banks of the first stream
But the water reflected my sight, and I reversed
For it showed a shape that I had  never seen

Long had this vision dried out the soul in me
And obstructed me to drink and water it even so
But how solid is a concrete thing that leans upon a fantasy
When thereby hangs the entire world you know

I ran towards the second brook, drawn by sheer objection
Where I knelt down and drank most eagerly
Yet the water was troubled, and without reflection
Thus with the troubled water, the image dissolved within me

My thirst was quenched, and bid the image to escape
It was in these golden woods that I had learned to see
T'is often the beauty unacquainted with its shape
That shapes the most fair and solid imagery
A river ran through a golden wood
That lay bathed in the peaceful fall of eventide
And two streams sprung from it as I stood
And watched them meandering into the light

I found a place to quench my thirst
And kneeled down on the banks of the first stream
But the water reflected my sight, and I reversed
For it showed a shape that I had  never seen

Long had this vision dried out the soul in me
And obstructed me to drink and water it even so
But how solid is a concrete thing that leans upon a fantasy
When thereby hangs the entire world you know

I ran towards the second brook, drawn by sheer objection
Where I knelt down and drank most eagerly
Yet the water was troubled, and without reflection
Thus with the troubled water, the image dissolved within me

My thirst was quenched, and bid the image to escape
It was in these golden woods that I had learned to see
T'is often the beauty unacquainted with its shape
That shapes the most fair and solid imagery
Figments of a thousand solitary thoughts flew all around me
And long have I intended to chase and hunt them down by choice
For I knew: if they would lay locked within the safe keeping of a boundary
They were to entangle in a word, and be the silent figment of a voice

For what is the height of love, but merely a thought astray
If it doesn't speak in her own defence
And what is the fire of passion, but a long and worn out way
That leads to nothing, if words would not grant it recompense

Yet all these words speak for the echoes of all that came before
That too once spoke and were no stranger to sheer humanity
T'is the thought that finds the sweet eloquence it bore
That moulds the most pure and sincere consistency
Fenna Capelle Nov 2019
A heart is like a wanderer moon
That at first but faintly shines
Yet it surrounds the darkness with silver tunes
When all light in the end declines

It is in the hope of every heart
To pluck the beams of this faint light
And share it when light and darkness part
In the blackness of a moonless night
War
Fenna Capelle Nov 2019
War
Even war is crowned with solemn peace
That crown passed on from reign to reign
And from king to king even the gold does fade
So does the glory in the sword that's stained

The sword was silenced and then was heard no more
The blood stained veil tore before my closing eye
Thus it is the dethronement of peace that's the coronation of war
Yet could ever a higher cause such a darkness dignify
Fenna Capelle Oct 2019
I taught the weeping willow how to cry
To see in himself that he felt forsaken
And seeing sadness, I felt the sympathy to try
And reached my hand, although it be not taken

Rooted in a ground of incomprehension
That deprived him of a willows vivacity
And darkened his brightest heaven of invention
And emptiness became his daily  melody

As for his loneliness  he took my hand
And as for comfort, I gave him mine
And placed his roots again on fertile land
I taught the weeping willow how tears can entertwine

— The End —