Like the swell of the screaming sea
That drowns the awaiting sands,
Unpredictability overthrows reasoning-
Abstracting me from all that still waits.
Unreachable, surreal-
As though life’s seams have been divided
By a tongue, rendering me voiceless
Amidst a thousand voices.

Words are devious; deceptive like the silent tears
That soaks my cold sheets at night.
Thoughts are a curse, merciless and unforgiving,
Plaguing honest judgements,
It is only within childhood innocence
That I find safe solitude.
In duty and in contract I’ am bound,
Though my heart is onboard ship
To familiar English shores.

Unceasingly my mind seeks out the shadows,
Torturing my affections with their poison
Of the one who holds my barely beating heart-
So carelessly in his hands.


Anna Elizabeth Rose ©

A balcony underneath a blanket of stars,
Any other night and it may have been beautiful.
Fearing the unknown; not really knowing what it is I fear.
Standing at the edge of a precipice-
Wondering, waiting for fate’s hands to guide me over the edge,
Or to drag me back into my blinded distrust
Where soothing words smother uncertainties.

Prepare yourself; a thousand questions to which there are no answers,
Only a deathly silence, a blank face, unquestionable-
There is a fine line between eternal slumber and death,
And through the eyes of another I face both.
In darkness, time unmercifully lengthens- in sleeplessness,
I ask myself over and over and over,
But the wind’s whispers are too quiet to hear.

So many others relish the relief of the unknown,
Alone I stand, able to see through their grimaces.
Through self-indulged abandonment have I dug my own grave.
I left you in his healing hands; judgment and doubts aside.
Each marked stone bears the signature of your remembrance,
To all of these days I have walked upon the earth.
Convince me, tell me and take me away from this precipice-
Back into your awaiting arms.

21.09.2010
Anna Elizabeth Rose ©

Knarled fingers, time etched between the creases
Of broken flesh that with grace, unfurls a yellowing heart
Down upon the ash covered wood.
Through the curling haze contented countenance
Crows with rasping indulgence, knowing once again
Victory will be won with a *****.

In the grass of Lunan Bay the weathered eye
Sketches absently, a distraction from realization-
To care too much is not nearly enough.
Lustrous tones emblazon the fruitless complexion,
Black and blue, beaten with malevolence down
Onto paper that trembles amidst the tempest.

When shall we three meet again?
Dour silence conflicts proclamations,
To do right is to be wronged and the wrong is never put right.
Till the battle is both lost and won,
The lasting spell of time is thine enemy-
Helpless to those who were once freely chained to you.

Only in death does one preserve existence,
Reflections alter with age but the truth is never forgotten.
As I look out to the tranquil sea; life now cold
With unknown depths, endless to optimistic minds-
Through the delicate hands of a child does your
Ashes dance down to their watery grave.
Defending against the neglect of a name do I grasp the torment,
Of never being able to bid you goodbye.

22.06.2010
Anna Elizabeth Rose ©