Alone, in this vast space
Of thoughts and feelings
Hearing echoes of past yearnings
Of heaving sighs
And stifled weeping
And the song grows dim
Or yet, does it not?
Have I grown deaf to the clamor
Of the streaming flow
Of endless thunder?
Still solitary
In the heart of the tempest
Of wailing and wind
And yet, what comfort will the quiet bring?
What shall I see
But clarity and truth
Clarity, a piercing light
Truth, the blare of stillness
What comfort?
Now, where shall I seek solace
Where tempest and quiet bring none?
Who will I run to?
Where shall I go?
To paths of greater burdens
Of yokes to bear through time
For beyond are serenity and peace
So sing to me of the skies
Of new horizons
And of the slow flowing streams
For this I cannot bear
No, not without the sweet scent
Of salvation
Borne upon the wings
Of a new dawn.
You noticed I started with a short poem; it was made by a good friend of mine, Pia. (thanks, dude!)
So, don't think you interpreted it wrong cause there's no such thing as a wrong interpretation for poems cause we all have our own views/opinions, 'kay?
The first few chapters will be 'based' on this.
Enjoy and wait for the story!
See ya,
sKyE (", x)