Bhryn
First Post
A note on cream, warm parchment with cursive hand in a dark ink of blue shade, darker than indigo and closer to midnight, or perhaps black. The paper itself has runes enchanted about the bottom, intended so others do not post atop the note, leaving it singular and pristine, perched or perhaps poised on a slender thorn.
With sticks, with stones, a house of cards;
We all fall down, we all fall down...
Thrice bound, thrice grasped and caught.
Clipped my wings for a life so fraught.
For someone important who I may be
They locked up my mind to set me free,
They caged all the memories so I wouldn't weep
And crushed down my pain, under their feet.
It's wrong and yet right, what to say, what to say?
But choices and decisions, they were already made.
So I walk without knowing where I should go
I laugh at the jokes that inside I still know.
The sunsets are different but still just the same
I follow the rules to this ever changing game.
Brokered my wishes and kept only glass
To look through in memory at what is past.
My name on your lips, was it me you knew?
The Truth in the silence, the pain that I drew,
The violent supression of anger and grief
Raw in the moment, torn beyond your belief.
Shower'd it down and cleansed it, mended
And fended. The pain and pleasure all blended.
Did you see deeper than the nothing
In my endless eyes? In the soulless something?
Was the laughter forgiving or destructively wild?
The passion unrelenting or tired and mild?
Who was I, this woman I am and don't know
To capture these hearts, to keep them in tow?
I was something to someone, was I not?
The future a memory, a distant dark blot
Of ink, for someone has written over the plan of me
And penned in new verses, discreetly.
It dries with words I didn't know how to say
Or didn't want to say, kept them locked away
In my heart of hearts. I'd wish tomorrow
Were here, without this undirected sorrow
That clenches my heart coldly, so cold.
My face in the mirror, passing, is so old
But so young. I am no older than I recall
But older inside, where the soul stalls
And turns dark with forbidden memories
Of being older. Or younger. Or me.
So I write my name in blood across the land
And smile vaguely in my dreams, a hand
Clenched about the sword of all sorrows ever.
Revel in the war I caused and love, forever,
The perfect killing machine, made to destroy
And with laughter bitter, like a broken toy
I know I am pushed aside until another war
Until another fight. Is this all I am good for?
So throws those sticks and stones of phrases
Clichéd, as you like, in various mazes;
That lead around and round without going anywhere
To lead inside to the space called nowhere.
And on the floor with the house of cards high
Placing queen to king, stable and strong, a lie.
Faces all inward so I don't know them on sight
Then with revelation burned into the failing light
I know I am thrice bound against what I know
Yet have lost. What have I lost, where did it go?
With sticks, with stones, a house of cards;
We all fall down, we all fall down...
Bhryn xxxx
With sticks, with stones, a house of cards;
We all fall down, we all fall down...
Thrice bound, thrice grasped and caught.
Clipped my wings for a life so fraught.
For someone important who I may be
They locked up my mind to set me free,
They caged all the memories so I wouldn't weep
And crushed down my pain, under their feet.
It's wrong and yet right, what to say, what to say?
But choices and decisions, they were already made.
So I walk without knowing where I should go
I laugh at the jokes that inside I still know.
The sunsets are different but still just the same
I follow the rules to this ever changing game.
Brokered my wishes and kept only glass
To look through in memory at what is past.
My name on your lips, was it me you knew?
The Truth in the silence, the pain that I drew,
The violent supression of anger and grief
Raw in the moment, torn beyond your belief.
Shower'd it down and cleansed it, mended
And fended. The pain and pleasure all blended.
Did you see deeper than the nothing
In my endless eyes? In the soulless something?
Was the laughter forgiving or destructively wild?
The passion unrelenting or tired and mild?
Who was I, this woman I am and don't know
To capture these hearts, to keep them in tow?
I was something to someone, was I not?
The future a memory, a distant dark blot
Of ink, for someone has written over the plan of me
And penned in new verses, discreetly.
It dries with words I didn't know how to say
Or didn't want to say, kept them locked away
In my heart of hearts. I'd wish tomorrow
Were here, without this undirected sorrow
That clenches my heart coldly, so cold.
My face in the mirror, passing, is so old
But so young. I am no older than I recall
But older inside, where the soul stalls
And turns dark with forbidden memories
Of being older. Or younger. Or me.
So I write my name in blood across the land
And smile vaguely in my dreams, a hand
Clenched about the sword of all sorrows ever.
Revel in the war I caused and love, forever,
The perfect killing machine, made to destroy
And with laughter bitter, like a broken toy
I know I am pushed aside until another war
Until another fight. Is this all I am good for?
So throws those sticks and stones of phrases
Clichéd, as you like, in various mazes;
That lead around and round without going anywhere
To lead inside to the space called nowhere.
And on the floor with the house of cards high
Placing queen to king, stable and strong, a lie.
Faces all inward so I don't know them on sight
Then with revelation burned into the failing light
I know I am thrice bound against what I know
Yet have lost. What have I lost, where did it go?
With sticks, with stones, a house of cards;
We all fall down, we all fall down...
Bhryn xxxx