February 17, 2011

I wonder if this world can stop, or maybe just slow down.
I wonder if my gems are false, if my weight is from my crown.
Could it be that I am just as false as gilded gold?
Or could it be that beauty is the best lie ever told?
I try and grasp a truth, but it is always fleeting.
Every tender pulse of heart is another beating.
I try and understand that these feelings go away
But why can I not see the light, the precious light of day?
I try, I swear, but each breath skips
And each word of prayer is frozen, frozen on my swollen lips.
Can no one see through the constant alterations?
Nothing could be more worthless than my constant protestations.
Could you take a second to shed this worldly cloak?
Which, for this time, is tossed up in grievous smoke?
I shudder lest I think of you and the way you’ve been
Completely buried in your mound of horrid, subtle sin.
I am pure, except for all my complete lies
And I never fail except for all the unremembered tries.
Maybe one last dance will take all this pain away
Or maybe the way I dance is what will make it stay.
Could’ve tried a separate tactic or a new release
But every time I try again I kill the golden geese.
The source of jubilation, power, water, pure
Has lost all its subtle, shining, glorious allure.
Will I never make it back?

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