Pressure pounds upon my head, like a waterfall; brushing ever so lightly on my fingertips. In this moment, I have the reality of submerging myself in the intensity of this unknown place. Barricading my thoughts like a robber in a standoff; I ponder the actions of setting myself free..

I am ashamed
& confounded
to have loved
a child at heart
that will forever remain
a boy in mind
that will never grow
to obtain
the love of life.

The vanity that seeps within the human heart, is crushing.. It pounds it's poison upon our backs, until we give into it's call. A slave to it's intriguing, sensual lull. We find ourselves, on hands & knees, waiting for the taste of vanities, will. Shalom

Sincerely,
a servant

It wasn't enough,
she was kicked,
shackled,
broken,
and laid bare

You had nestled,
your arms around her neck,
until she could no longer breathe

Twisting her legs,
weakening her,
so she could only lie there,

As she stare into the eyes,
of her tormentor.

She sits upon her terrace,
overlooking her life,
pondering and reflecting,
accepting and mourning,
smiling and frowning,

a colour of emotions
shining upon her face
like the greatest of
the suns rays.

With her head bowed
she realizes,
sometimes when you live,
to be of old age
often you live to see death,
coldest games.

When you live to be her age,
losing a child is a reality you must face,
sometimes you may lose them all,
because you outlived the times,

now she sits and waits,
for her time to come..

I cannot hide in my fortress,
this cloak has fallen,
and in it's place,
stands my barren feelings,
here in this puddle,
is the lost of my innocence..

I am a passerby. A hello and goodbye. A "it is nice to meet you and I hope we meet again soon." I am a "I love you, I wish we could have been more."

I am a mystery. A staring of the eyes and hoping the person's yearnings were heard, seen, understood. I am what you wish to have, but will never obtain.

I am silence. I am a midnight blues and you are the sun. Wishing to cast your light on me, praying we could journey on.

I am a passerby. Watching those that walk by come and go. I am a passerby, witnessing many, wish to understand me more. I am a passersby, in love with solitude and galore..

A passerby that wants nothing more than simple conversations, intriguing looks and long gazing truths. I am a passerby, that has no time for relations, no time for more.

So please pass me by and let the memory of me, hold you close at night. I am a passerby, only meant to be spoken to for the night.. Shalom

Sincerely,
a servant