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by Lize-Leandra Ehlers | |
Published on: May 2, 2007 | |
Topic: | |
Type: Poetry | |
https://www.tigweb.org/express/panorama/article.html?ContentID=12969 | |
Conform Not Prudence turned passionate Flames on her skin Violation occurs Passion forcefully reversed to prudence With rapt attention she turned off the beat of her heart, her mind breaking down blood, muscle and bones to crash her heart’s adherence. Despair became her companion Tear stained eyes became her appearance As she turned from soul seeker to misanthrope, on terms of misinformation She betrayed love Yet, Without him she hated the world. She hated breathing. For he wasn’t there to inhale. As she allowed his absence, embarrassed by the enormity of forbidden feeling Her flames grew paradoxically stronger; her lane of pain grew longer. As her humanity poured through the colander holes of her soul, she loved him more. All that ran through her thoughts was the period of rein to her passions Every breath a new dimension Every word spoken to him, a deep discovery For them he symbolized reputation tarnish. Decay of existence as per born For them he initiated metamorphoses in direction negative For them he poured slur on a shiny name. And so they dubbed him wily, cunning to be exact So much time disparaging this involuntary mass of love Depriving deep pleasure made her ill, for her heart’s health lied in his hands. In her peripheral, all truly visible was her unsurpassable joy in his presence Thought Thought Thought, through and through Suddenly her integrity to love instilled contemplative repose. Meek she turned at the site of his intimidating glare But strong she emerged, ready, to combat for her comradeship Papa, I love him. My heart calls for no other. Don’t look at me that way One cannot switch off one’s existence For I exist to be so much But he intensifies my strength of loving My strength of being, of seeing, of feeling I fly when I am with him Don’t you see the wings on my back? His love glued them on. Wherefore shall you not leave your conventional wisdom? You live at a tortoise pace. I live to run the passion race. I live to be alive. If need be so, if thou does not allow me to feel as I feel Please bid adieu, as I can be what I feel Set me free, Papa. I have turned into myself And am not just a mere reflection of you anymore Allow my emancipation. Forever you cannot protect. I love him Don’t you see? Have you not the visual of blood turned fuel in my veins? Or the air combusting at a rate only true emotion can enable? Unwilling you are to tolerate phenomena You in your cement totality Please allow your mind to grow on my plea I shall be no hypocrite anymore Love deserves only bravery. Written by: Lize Kubersky 17/08/2006 « return. |