the meaning of an apology:
echoes of a thousand I’m Sorry’s;
the silence of deceit, its awful slink;
the humbled hope to atone,
to pay amends where due,
to mend the maimed,
and trust renew.

forgiveness is a sad word:
it bears the scar of a wound;
to forgive is to hope with hurt.
it is to trust in tide to wash ashore;
for in lack of trust and hope,
it is noble to sink with the ship.
it is bolder yet to hop asea,
and let tide be guide.

the parable of the builders:
the wiser built his house on  rock,
the rain came down,
the floods came,
the winds blew,
and beat on that house;
and it did not fall,
for it was founded on a rock

the foolish built his on sand,
the rain came down,
the floods came,
the winds blew,
and beat on that house;
and it fell — and great was its fall.

determination's downfall;
for, is a house still not a house
despite its foundation?
fortune's fortress looms;
our sandcastle holdfasts hampered in comparison,
but home is neither keep nor battlement,
neither moat nor bailey,
neither portcullis nor drawbridge;

home is where you touch the ground,
where you choose to grow...

the rain will retain its hiss;
but the rain is still the rain,
the floods remain the floods,
and the wind is just the wind.

~ Inori

There's someone who coming with empty bag
The footsteps is stopping in the middle of room
Crying without anyone know

There's someone who thinking about their complaints
Her/his efforts just like dust on air
Flame of vigor is gone

There's someone who so afraid to get out of here
Shame, guilt, worry, confuse
Don't know where she/he will go

There's someone who still standing right here
And someone is me

There is no light in the yard,
but there´s been a change in the weather.
Silently, old walls strive towards the ether.
The restless souls, the wardens,
they come and they creep,
striving to rob my own kind of their sleep.
I am driven, drifting, directed astray,
by the ghouls, the gnomes,
those who vanish by day.
Until the bleak morning breaks
I am condemned to abide
in my head, the haunted house,
where the phantasm reigns.

The sun will never raise  
Winter  is dominating
Darkness is accused  
The world of MONSTERS
The story of the girl
Her imagination  
The moon has no light  
Spring will never come  
Creep,
Cry,
This world is grey

you could have been the gloomy day
beautiful in your own way
a blank palette
capable of becoming what we make of it

you could have been a time to reflect and
admire the beauty unnoticed on a sunny day

She learned to forget. She lingered in her heedless silence without the reverberation of a comforting echo. She spread her resigned smile across the mouldering canopy, touched the sun-kissed treetops that lined up in the background like green fortress walls.
And she went where he had disappeared to.

The nothingness.

© fey (17/12/20)