Tiny whispers of the wind flew by my ear
my brows puckered and slowly but steadily
my eyelashes split apart and I saw.
My arms saw the pincered chains
binding me to my gravestone,
my ears saw the melodious siren song
keeping me rooted to the spot,
and my eyes saw everything
that made me be what they wanted me to be.
And as I see, I refuse to stay and stagnate,
or grow in the path lighted for me by others.
I see the graying slivers of the sidebush
at the fringe of the pathway,
the beautiful and enchanting honey pots
forever mystic misty wisps
emanating from behind the curtain
and the low hum calling me from the other side.
Swing me from my perch and free me from myself
I behold myself in my mind mirror
and vow to be what I deem to be right,
to chart my own path, navigate where I want to
and fill what I have with what I can.
I am who I am, I would be who I want to be
and I don't wanna be anything other than
what I've been trying to be lately.
1 comment:
First of all! I guess Mr.Who is very famous... that's why "Mera" is enough to recognize.
And ya! some xyz not gonna tell me when its time to blog.
Third, This is a intellectual place for classic eyes, not some son of *****es to howl on comment section.
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