Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The 'writer's' 'words'...

A message was waiting for me,
I, like always, couldn't wait to read it,
if there was an imaginary horse, I was on it,
on my way to see what the message was about.

I read, and read, and read till the end,
realising every bit along the way its meaning,
the words, the silence, they were mine to keep,
they were mine, solely mine.

There was pain, a lot of pain,
and strength, a lot of it,
that the words carried all throughout,
but it was an attempt to instil hope in me.

I was touched, very deeply so,
the message became special to me,
one that I will keep close to my heart,
one that the world can keep conjecturing,
but one that only I know why so close.

I can't do what the words ask me to do,
it's something that just cannot be done,
those brave words must have required so much courage,
for them to be written like that.

If the 'words' and the 'writer' are meant to be together,
why is it so that we draw them apart?
why this separation, why this turmoil?
If the 'words' and the 'writer' are meant to be one.

To feel the 'words' again, the 'writer' awaits,
the world can shatter, but faith wants to stay,
and if the message were a person, we would be in an embrace,
for the emotions were so lovely, painful in bits, but special till the end.

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