Talking To Myself

The restless sleep brought a vision,

It formed behind my closed eyes,

A slumber slept in anger and sadness,

Birthed to me a wondrous dream.

A stone bench amidst a white field,

I stared into the whiteness alone,

I was until a gentleman sat beside,

I gazed upon his face and was lost.

I saw before me myself sitting,

On the stone bench besides me,

It almost was a true mirror of me,

Except for the bliss that filled him.

I know no reason the eyes smile as his does,

But I had to know, before I could question,

He spoke to me in my own voice to answer,

“Yes friend, I am you, yes, we are the same.”

“The sole exception, the Worlds we live in,

And as consequence our routes shall differ,

But make no mistake friend, we are the same,

My life being lead in a universe far, far away.”

“The bliss you see within me is a true light,

Shown to me by the one Angel you worship,

Shown to me every day by the one Angel,

The one Angel who’s forever eluded you.” 

“I saw you here friend and I wept for you,

The happiness I have found within her,

I dread never knowing that sheer bliss,

And you cling to fantasy not my memory.”

My mind was taken aback by his testimony,

The world he walks in, the world I walk in,

A world universes away from this world,

I hold my Angel’s hand in the darkness.

I turned to myself sitting beside me,

He might have known my question,

But I spoke it aloud for him to hear,

“What does it feel like, to hold her?”

His eyes glistened a little and he said with a heavy throat,

“As if every terrible thing that ever happened was worth it.”

I smiled and nodded my head, of course, I asked him again,

“What is it like, when you look deep into her eyes for hours?”

His voice ever so slowly spoke to me,

“As if nothing could be as perfect.”

I nodded again and gulped the air,

“And when she says she loves you?”

He smiled but still with a voice speaking slowly,

“I don’t know, it’s far too massive for me to say,

It feels akin to a great blessing, a great honour,

As if my feet drift off the ground and into the sky.”

I thanked myself of Worlds Away for his visit,

And walked into the stretched white fields,

Imagining what it feels to hold the one Angel,

And lose time within the aura of her perfection.

To Belong

Fate suffered a true folly,

To birth me where I was,

Born backwards to life,

Ripped from incubation.

What winds blew wildly,

What darkness played?

To have tricked the fate,

And to birth me here.

I find myself alone too often,

None seem to understand ever,

The path the lays before me,

And the path I choose to follow.

This is home? Surely should be,

This land where I first walked,

But every step I take beyond,

I find a world far more foreign.

I know not why I am here,

Must be an accident surely,

A terrible hand dealt to me,

Forever suffering fate's mistake.

Perhaps some solace could be found,

If the wings of the angel wrapped me,

Around my fearful being and hold me,

As if I truly do belong here, somewhere.

But that solace is a mystery to me,

The angels flew far away, beyond,

I seek no harm nor malice to them,

Yet they fly further away, from sight.

All I’ve lived is with a shivering cold,

Which grips my soul under my skin,

And freezes me whole with a curse,

A curse that leaves me an outsider.

A foreigner in the land I was born,

A stranger to the souls I've touched,

My curse knows no word of remorse,

It seeks to torture me into oblivion.

And torture me it has so very much,

Cursing me to stare and fantasize,

At the simple joy of the anonymous,

The true happiness of lovers together.

My eyes have been forced to see,

Hundreds and thousands of souls,

Holding hands and knowing bliss,

Holding a gaze and seeing heaven.

I likely shall never know what it feels to be,

When an angel who holds my dead heart,

Looks in my eyes which are absent soul,

And tell me that we truly belong together.

I know I’ll never know what it means,

To smile a smile shared by my heart,

I can only imagine that true happiness,

As I see it on the faces of all around me.

But somewhere, it’s alright I suppose,

Birthed in a place I do not belong to,

Even the angels find me an invisible,

And a cold curse runs under my skin.