She was bored.
She desired adventure.
She craved magic.
She was tired ,
Of being human.
She wanted to ,
Shed her form,
Her body,
be formless,
And undefined,
Like a beginning,
That has no end.
An unwritten story,
A mystery,
A forbidden fantasy,
Indestructible,
In an imperfect world.
She wanted to be,
The empress,
Of the realms,
A fairy , a star,
A moon , a cloud,
A leaf, a dew drop,
Anything. Anything.
But human.
And one day,
All the voices echoing,
In the vacuum of silence ,
Will be heard.
And that day,
Everything else,
That was ever said,
Or ever heard,
Will have no meaning.
And one day,
The moon shall speak,
And lay bare,
Every secret that languished,
In the pale light
Of silence.
And one day ,
The stars shall be one,
And rake out,
From the debris of silence,
Each eternal word,
The universe,
Shall listen in awe,
And nothing will ever be
the same again.
Come! Oh! come ye Autumn,
Let thy sun fall ,
Upon the flaming trees,
And make my spirit soar,
Like a leaf
caught in the magic
Of thy breeze.
Spread thy blanket,
Of red and gold ,
Upon the battered Earth,
Let her rest,
awhile in peace,
Until she awakens,
To her rebirth.
Dance upon ,
My lucid dreams,
Intoxicate me with thy air,
Thou art the season ,
Of my soul,
Colour me oh! Autumn,
Colour me bare.
She is a maze,
Lost in eternity.
The likes of her,
Are illusions,
That baffle posterity.
She is a nymph,
Immortal and free,
A lost dream,
That dances,
Upon a fantasy.
She is a moment,
Trapped in infinity.
In the shell of life,
She is the pearl,
Caught in fragility.
Half human.
Half moon.
Half real.
Half surreal.
She shines,
Like the elusive light,
In the fallacy called life.
She hides,
Behind the darkness,
Of all her nights,
And peeps,
Through the crescent light,
Till all her secrets,
Fall like veils,
Upon the scars,
Of the moonlit night.
The colours of twilight,
Just stole some glow,
From the palette ,
Of the setting sun.
A choir sings,
In the far , far west,
The day is done….. the day is done.
Sing oh! Dusk…
Your lullaby sweet
And rock the cradle,
Of the ethereal night.
Sing with the choir,
In the far , far west,
Sing till the stars ,
All shine bright.
Rise , rise oh! Moon,
And shine your light,
Upon the darkness,
Of her broken soul.
She is singing ,
In the far, far west,
Oh! Healing light,
Come, make me whole.
Even the waves know not,
Where they go….
Crashing upon the shore,
Then back into the ocean,
Of their own oblivion.
The moon awaits their rise,
While the ocean,
Embraces their fall…..
And they go,
On and on and on.
Restless yet magical,
Unapologetically free,
They rush back ,
To where they never came from.
Each rise is a new journey,
Each fall is a new beginning…
And on and on they go,
Riding upon the cadence
of their own subtle rhythm….
Leaving footprints ,
For dreamers and seekers ,
To chase…. to tread upon….
And be led
To the ocean,
Of their own oblivion.
