Oh If They Could Scream

July 19, 2008
By Anonymous

They are unsolved mysteries
kings of old and angels eyes.
Like secret treasures which sleeping minds
do not care for.
Bright warriors from whirling unknowns,
the only way to measure the black we are drowning in.
We capture only how they were as they project their past,
and stretch away
to what?
They all get to die glorious deaths,
played for millenias
until they are lost to the deep.
My life is trivial
but when you're gazing up it's okay to think
about thinks greater and beyond yourself.
Never has darkness been so illuminating.

Every telephone pole confounds me,
all comforts of homes' roof discust me.
Learned unquestioningness smothers these holes to heaven.
Oh if they could scream.
I lie down, a thin layer on the earth,
and become everything and nothing.
I do not exist
I am nothing but a vantage point
I am all i soak in, nothing but wonder
blazing eyes holding each secound.
Eyes so wide they are all that I am
eyes in the dark, the eyes of angels.
They are strong warriors yet
they look away when Sun exposes Earth's
gashes and blood.
If they could see me
would they tell me their secrets,
would they tell me where the end is?
Or how they came to be?
Silent and wise.
Never before has light been so concealing.

The author's comments:
Ive never really sat down ans talked about a poem I've written but I decided I want to know what people think. I would savor your feedback. I'm 17. I don't write much.

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