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Run
‘Look around,

Where are you?’

I can’t remember, I ran too far away

In hope of something true



This place

It is bright

It is calm, it is comfort

It panders to those in plight



I shall stay here

For a while, maybe evermore

I am now new

Purity to adore



The sun sets

I remember in pain

And go back to reality

Home again
escape run way leave come back home
There once lived a girl who liked to drift away
Sail through the winds, the seas, the land
Weightless, as light as sand
An escape from everyday

There once lived a girl whose favourite drift of all
Was manned by that as sharp as a knife
As brutal as my life
In skin it made neat scrawls

There once lived a girl who could make wounds speak
How they screamed and shouted and wailed
And rebuked her for having failed
At not giving in to weak

There one lived a girl who asked the stars stop
Cease to twinkle and stare to sigh
Look in pity, helpless up high
Her eyes up, only to drop

There once lived a girl so broken yet so whole
Shattered hope, built-in dreams
Tear of the heart, flowing streams
An abyss, an endless soul

There once lived a girl who stood confused
Love for pain, pain for truth
Life for lesson, lesson for youth
Dilemmas that were gifts to the bruised

But, there once lived a girl who stood still
The blood flowing down clotted
A glimmering hope spotted
Changed the ‘can’ to ‘will’

So, ‘girl who once lived’
Wasn't it your dream
To fly one day?
To swim one day?
To run one day?
Wasn't it your wish
To breathe one day?
To leave one day?
To live one day?
Well, guess what?
You have.
I, who have yet to see all

Stand in awe of peace, of tranquillity

I, who have not found my dreams,

Stand in hope of peace, of tranquillity

I, who have not loved my life,

Stand in wait of peace, of tranquillity

I, who have but wandered endlessly,

Stand here, in resolute quest of

Ataraxia
peace calm tranquility
The mirror hangs on the walls of hope

Hope of a pretty face

Hope of a mask that hides the truth

A picture of perfect grace



But the mirror does naught but show true skin

A pimple here, a scar there

It is us who try to obscure our flaws

And build a sheath of beauty so fair



Some trust the mirror to trust themselves

When they say that they hold no lies

But what can mere countenance prove?

The vanity of pride, or the betrayal of guise?



Alas! The mirror shows only a face

The glow of a soul it sweetly hides

Our reflection is what our faces say

Not the true beauty of our inside

— The End —