Aug 2015
She jumps back and forth on a mud stained road.
Her little yellow boots violently shattering the tranquility of shallow puddles.
" I trample upon the weak"
A breeze, moaning softly of autumn confessions lifts her blonde hair and reveal 2 bright opals reflecting a dark sky.
The smell of mouldy cornfields and rotting leaves ****** the noise.
Leaves gritting their teeth. Blissfully she splatters through the countryside.
" My scars mark the path which you shall follow"
A sudden halt of the feet, fleeting moments of gazing into her own reflection. A realisation of nothingness..
Just for a brief spell
She realises that she is alone...
That she has no meaning...
" I walk this road alone, I am the shepard of a flock made of condensed hope."
A flash of lightning breaks the introspection. Woefully she splashes along the dirt road, relishing the autumn mirage of a dying countryside.
Her rubber boots squeaking followed by soft snickering.
" I refuse to see the harsh and bleak snow that hangs in the clouds."
a vast ocean of black looks up from a shallow puddle at my feet.
Her boots in my stained hands...
I lean myself against a shovel, stabbed firmly yet violently into the muck of the earth.
And for a glimpse i see her reflection.
For a moment i realise
I am alone
my life has no meaning.
A flash of lightning breaks my introspection.
The haze lifts and i see her opal eyes gaze up at me from the shallow puddle..
" A shepard with no flock is unfit to guide the innocent to their home."
Those opaline eyes blaming me, judging me. A burden unfit for my shoulders.
I toss the dirt in her eyes.
As i place mine ear against the ravaged and ***** soil of the earth..
I hear her boots squeaking.. and soft splashes.
" I tread upon the corpses of the weak."
Raindrops paint black the world..
Each drop her eye... gazing me down...
Blaming me for deeds that were done.
I yearn to return...
To those days
Of whispering autumn breezes, rotting leaves...
And her...
Blisfully jumping around in shallow puddles...
As i watched her from behind the trees.
Her little yellow boots violently shattering the tranquility of shallow puddles.
" I trample upon the weak"
A breeze, moaning softly of autumn confessions lifts her blonde hair and reveal 2 bright opals reflecting a dark sky.
The smell of mouldy cornfields and rotting leaves ****** the noise.
Leaves gritting their teeth. Blissfully she splatters through the countryside.
" My scars mark the path which you shall follow"
A sudden halt of the feet, fleeting moments of gazing into her own reflection. A realisation of nothingness..
Just for a brief spell
She realises that she is alone...
That she has no meaning...
" I walk this road alone, I am the shepard of a flock made of condensed hope."
A flash of lightning breaks the introspection. Woefully she splashes along the dirt road, relishing the autumn mirage of a dying countryside.
Her rubber boots squeaking followed by soft snickering.
" I refuse to see the harsh and bleak snow that hangs in the clouds."
a vast ocean of black looks up from a shallow puddle at my feet.
Her boots in my stained hands...
I lean myself against a shovel, stabbed firmly yet violently into the muck of the earth.
And for a glimpse i see her reflection.
For a moment i realise
I am alone
my life has no meaning.
A flash of lightning breaks my introspection.
The haze lifts and i see her opal eyes gaze up at me from the shallow puddle..
" A shepard with no flock is unfit to guide the innocent to their home."
Those opaline eyes blaming me, judging me. A burden unfit for my shoulders.
I toss the dirt in her eyes.
As i place mine ear against the ravaged and ***** soil of the earth..
I hear her boots squeaking.. and soft splashes.
" I tread upon the corpses of the weak."
Raindrops paint black the world..
Each drop her eye... gazing me down...
Blaming me for deeds that were done.
I yearn to return...
To those days
Of whispering autumn breezes, rotting leaves...
And her...
Blisfully jumping around in shallow puddles...
As i watched her from behind the trees.
