"On The Walls"

In my hands
This quill feels unfamiliar...
It's been so long since I've wrote
The words come slowly
It's as if they no longer know me...

In my mind
The phrases are few
And far between the prolonged silence
Nothing sounds right
It's as if I've lost the will to write...

Still...

With these hands
And with this mind
I'll wring the words from the lining of my heart
If I must
To fulfill the calling -
Inculcated
"Mark my words"
I'm still carving my name...

I just thought 'I have to post this'.... 'tis the first piece I've written in months and I love it... and apparently it's very good too... Fancy that! =] I'm still carving my name...

*DNR* [I'm Lost...]

Their tears are bitter
Their sorrow shallow
I can't understand their pain
Still I feel as though it is my own.

You left 'too soon' they said
They thought you would stay for their sakes
I knew better, I knew long ago
It was your time to go... simply put.

Their tears are bitter
Yours have dried
Mine have yet to fall.

Mechanical heartbeat
Rusty, shaking breath
I feel as much as you do now
Or maybe you feel more...?

Their tears are drying
My heart is bitter
And you have yet to leave.


*DNR ~ Do Not Resuscitate.

I actually wrote this a few weeks ago. I got home late because I had practice after school and my mother called me to say that something had happened at home. My grandmother had been taken to the hospital by an ambulance because she had collapsed. The paramedics on the scene had told my grandfather that she was dead but later that evening we were told that she was in a coma and brain-dead. She died a few days later...

Earlier that day I had written a song and a poem and I was starting to come out of my literary slump - but since then, this is the only thing I've written... even though we weren't close I feel as though I've lost something... maybe the will to write, or continue living - it's something I'm still trying to work through. 

Something that not many people understand about my writing - I'll make the stretch to call it 'art' - is that it means everything to me, being that it's the only place that I feel comfortable enough to say what I'm feeling without caring about judgments. Without it... I'm lost.

And She Danced...

The bells had long foretold the hour of her death
In the streets and cities they wept
To lose one so young,
A loss felt by all but she
For she danced.

Still, in the midst of all the misery
A joy she found, one for only she.
On they led her to the gallows
For she should hang
She paid them no mind,
She simply danced.

Noose around her neck
Last words on her lips
As swayed the ropes
So did she her hips
Final moment passed
Her body limp at last
Captioned words above her head
Say 'may she never dance again'.

But still in the nights
The wind picks up
Ever so slightly swaying her
And in the moonlight
Still, she dances.

I don't remember exactly I was thinking when I wrote this piece... but the main idea of it was the 'never say die' spirit that everyone has inside them and what it can do when you put it to use...

Everyone has it in them to be that strong -- you just have to look deep enough. =]