Not Of The Sea
not too far away
on a not so distance isle
surrounded by a sea of crowded faces
badgered with lazy waves of hormonal emotions
lives an older young man
who wraps his emotions around him tight
so thick and tight it both binds him and blinds him
once the sea may have loved and embraced him but now they fear him
both frail and hardened is he
before his time and beyond his years
irreparable is the damage inflicted
a hardened heart, a shattered soul, a frail desire to go on
he knows no longer
if he is coming or if he is going
in the sea of feelings and faces, emotions and energies
moving freely around and into each other no regard to the good or the bad created
however he does know:
before him they scatter, all too happy to escape him
around him they tip-toe, hoping his attention they will not catch
behind him they conjugate, to speak nasty things of him in hushed tones
it hurts and heartens him to know
of the deep and heavy emotions he installs in them
and the consequential relationships born through shared feelings
always loathing, always anger, always sadness, always fear – never love
the hour is growing late
night has fallen much too soon this evening
time is flying, the moment of dread draws nearer and nearer
the few who know of its approach, try to find solace in something dear
he has long ago found his solace
in his demented way of saying, possibly a final, farewell
billowing through the halls he catches couples naively 'playing'
he sends the lot back to bed with detentions and points down by the pound
his rounds come to an early and swift end
upon the staircase that leads to his fate he approaches
he places one foot in front of his other, ascending the stairs
he fights the urge to look back and say a proper good-bye to the heart that protects
he is not ready to face his fate but his fate he must face at the top of the tallest spire.