Friday, February 9, 2007


Is it my twin I see sitting alone and detached, forgetful of the gay company that
surrounds her.
Books her favorite companion, abuse or forsake her they don’t;
Dreams a pastime she dwells on, easing the pain and disappointment within.
I wonder, was her dejection instilled when she was young and innocent or was it a recent phase caused by heartfelt sorrows.
A trance like numbness the reason for the aloofness in her eyes, I suspect, from my experiences of old days.
I who was once resurrected from the depth by the passing of ages and flesh that grew over old wounds, understand her, though she might not know.
How I crave to tell her that I know and care for her hurt?
Would she let me heal her or would time perform a miracle?

I owe her a resurrection, that much I know from past sufferings. No man would I let to trend the path I once trod, but god with all his wrath has created us in abundance, a curse we shall be until redemption we attain.

- 22 / 1 / 2006

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