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I would be deaf but how would I understand these lips with invisible sound.
Screaming on our own burial ground where we were once kids.
Innocence revealed to be our kings raining pains we create to define ourselves as unique characters and to reveal our passion to the last one left to trust, called love.
Whispered words contain a secret to that ear we believe to trust.
The secret can become a destructive weapon. The situation is only a life lesson to birth a guard on future foreseen tides.
On the burial ground we walk on lies that we put to rest.
The skeletons are a solid fact of what was once.
We walk away from that which has died and we dare to call ourselves alive.
We put to rest only to meet again, to live away until the end.
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Writer Profile
Robert Dodginghorse
well this poem is about my people in time of turbulence and in the time to become a leader in a emotional war between Mecca and identity.
assimilation is my biggest fear of my people this poem is an outreach to tell them they have a belonging in their culture,a belonging in their people.
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Comments
Beautiful and deep Sofya Mezhorina | Dec 19th, 2005
Reminds me of John Donne a little... Very moving.
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