"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Friday, February 22, 2013

Half-Life


Looking for numbers and patterns we do not see 
Judging from beginning to end the missing piece.
That this may not be a new start 
But yet another rejection. 
That people move on as monuments grow colder

I know the saddest things are not relivable 
Yet to horrifying to dwell what could drive someone to the edge? 

I found the words, just the other day
To shift the curtains aside without reflections
Without shadows and noise...
I cannot see my face nor I can remember what it feels like...

To be seen. 

I needed you there... the enchantment of something essential 
Yet the same hunger for happiness leads to similar despair... 
To think we are no more deserving.
We're always listening to the voice in our head that says we're not good enough
As if to explain to no audience  
What a reverie could not behold...

I know you hear this...
One night to be as full as the moon but not observed from the earth.
A caption on a thin line below the artist's most beloved work
This is what it feels like to be alive...
This is what it feels like to die.

And be reborn.

I found the words, just the other day
To shift the curtains aside without reflections
Without shadows and noise 
I cannot see my face nor can I remember what it feels like...

To be seen. 

Something tells me we'll observe more in the next life. 

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