Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Diaries of Amnesia

Here when the treasures fall
From the sky upon earth
Ricocheting off the sand-dunes,
Here of the red desert of shifting sands,
Our rugged feet take the grains, diminishing, dissolving
Into the waters of the yellow river,
Where with the rain, they are drained
Drained, forever.

Our inception, our origin, serendipity to those,
Slithering on the floor, who were there before us.
When we were made was it said,we all had a name,
Different to our birth, maimed by our versatile secrets?
Or was history made, futures fortold,
And we were to follow the path,
Unheeding of what our hearts hold?

So here I dry,forgotten sometimes,forgetting at others,
Like a withering begonia bud.
When I forget,the desert forgets,
As who I was to be remembered.

The deafening screeches
Of the resonating silence,
Where sound words tantalize from afar
I can hear,that they are near,
Yet I forgot how to embark on a search.

A door in my head has closed on me,
I am running frantically.
Open, door ,open, I plea,
Open for all, if need be…
Open,door,open,I’m begging me
I denounce the use of keys.

There is the crunch, of a broken branch,
And I tend to follow the sound,
But there is a mist,hovers over the swamp,
I cannot be found.

The words separate,voices too,
Walls fall apart, void is all I see.
Lock me, let me in!
I want to know why I am me!
I want to know why I am me…

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