Monday, October 13, 2008

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Whither shall that which is myself go.
I lay upon a stone looking into the eyes of impassive bearers
Feeling the weights come down, pile up
Can my pleas surpass their height?
I send my breath and soul endeavoring to rise above
To find someone to look kindly down upon me,
see my suffering, feel it touch their hearts.
Yet the more I struggle the more I am compacted and emptied
Nothing left inside me to be filled with love or hate or grief.
I feel it leave, see it float away, wanting to grasp for it
Wanting to feel the sorrow or loss. Still I only wonder
Whither shall that which is myself go.

Have I finally earned a rest? Will Mab come to me in my emptiness
and say 'rest child, you've earned the sweet oblivion'.

posted by Kimber at 11:28 PM :: ~#~

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