Between the fading child and the surfacing man is the pulse of hope.
Hear the oath of the waning child
And the vow of a struggling man,
They were fastened on this shell
For two decades and a year.
They shared the same eyes of loneliness
Behind the smirk against all pain.
They felt the earth’s diverse beats
With the same feet.
They mourned the history
Of a clan driven away, divided for years.
And carried the crown
Of both curse and blessing.
Sins of the past,
The hunters they run from.
The punishment of today,
Their gift of endless battles.
And they reach out to the fleeing tomorrow
As atonement for the olds and the littles.
They weave at night from the strings of tears,
They spin at day from the orbs of bubbles.
They long for their knees to fall in concession
But it all ends in a prayer
As the distant faces of kin
Supplicate on them through their smiles.
Inner voice,
Higher voice,
Swirling on them.
They speak of never faltering.
For us the other dilutes
And the other projects
They will mold in to one.
Soon they will find
Their union
on me.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 3:05 PM UTC
Between the fading child and the surfacing man is the pulse of hope.
Hear the oath of the waning child
And the vow of a struggling man,
They were fastened on this shell
For two decades and a year.
They shared the same eyes of loneliness
Behind the smirk against all pain.
They felt the earth’s diverse beats
With the same feet.
They mourned the history
Of a clan driven away, divided for years.
And carried the crown
Of both curse and blessing.
Sins of the past,
The hunters they run from.
The punishment of today,
Their gift of endless battles.
And they reach out to the fleeing tomorrow
As atonement for the olds and the littles.
They weave at night from the strings of tears,
They spin at day from the orbs of bubbles.
They long for their knees to fall in concession
But it all ends in a prayer
As the distant faces of kin
Supplicate on them through their smiles.
Inner voice,
Higher voice,
Swirling on them.
They speak of never faltering.
For us the other dilutes
And the other projects
They will mold in to one.
Soon they will find
Their union
on me.
Written June 2, 2005 ; the year I turned 21.
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