sit and forsake my embedded feelings, I am just one who you stare and foe
me away. Deliberate my chorus of rollercoasters that prevail an unwanted
mascarade. The mountains are my friends, while the flesh are my turbulant
caged in snakes.

The chain that is wrapped upon my inter-most desires are excluded from the
magnetic fields of sunrays. Delight is my face, but underneath my tone is a
abolished frown tainted beyond my years of childhood.

I crawl my way out of this dilema like a sinister concubine, I am not one
who will still like a sash, but one who will hunt like a hound, as they sear
my heart, my beats are lonesome as the blood bonafides my emotions of
abandonment, my troubled eyes are a sight of wonder.

A mask I glue to hide the fashis of my wrecked ship. The sun that use to
brighten my soul has now turned it to hollow happiness, the grass that was
once green is now black-- black is everything, its of my whole being.

I am not overwhelmed by the bright colors that disentegrated amongst my
surroundings, they are not gold that once glistened or silver that once
shined. I yet come to realize that the orge that is haunting will haunt
forever until I meet that straight away path-- path of purity, and yet I
cry-- I cry my childhood tears...


Copyright ©2003 Joann Marie Santos



 
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