Je Veux Vivre

June 26, 2010
By TimothyR.O BRONZE, Hamilton, Other
TimothyR.O BRONZE, Hamilton, Other
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Now is the time when the names and fortunes of heroes are made, rarely does one hear of great heroes in times of prosperity, but the greatest of heroes are remembered from the times of misfortune." Marcus Sulerus (from the Rat of the House of Fastus)

Life it seems, will never live up to those dreams
You know the ones you had, when you that little lad
Used to wake up in the morning, still chasing, still wanting
All that you had envisioned in that dream so haunting

But life is just a big pile of confusion,
Though lately it seems everything I thought,
Everything I understood is not the way it seemed.

I don't understand myself,
Let alone anyone else
Given that fact I’m sailing without knowing
And have no idea where I am going.

A drifter on an endless sea,
Without compass, chart or company,
What can I say to make it all makes sense?
When the world to me is vast and dense.

I can't be happy, I simply cannot
For every time I think of the experiences of life,
Of what we were supposed to have felt and done,
At this, one quarter of the way through this world I can check off very few,
Leastways few on a list of things positive.

I've loved enough to be hurt by the lie of life itself,
But never had a woman who in my arms I held,
Sat with her, to cry and laugh and sigh
and sing the sweetest of lullaby's.

To wander along the naked shore
in a way that would seem we had done it years before,
for things to fall in place
and make sense of time and space.

Is it so much to ask
for the smell of green grass
under our feet as we walk past,
the trials of life together?

To join in some great embrace,
to see the smile on her face,
the one that would light up all the things in me,
that have disappeared from memory,
over the last four years
But every time I try to think how,
to understand where I am now,
in order to find me so that I can find her
all that happens is getting lost in the dirt,
Of my mind, a mind so cluttered with mess and stress,
that says what is best is all that is left, and what is that I ask?

Maybe what is left is what was never there,
what that I had, that was not stripped bare,
from my soul and heart,
what left that may allow for me to make a new start

But what do I know? All tales and stories of woe,
which say nothing of happiness and everything of sorrow,
I try to get by with the things I am told,
but in the end I am still here alone and in the cold,

So I ask and say now, do you have an answer to the what, where and how
questions that I ask?
Or am I simply to give up again and turn to my old friend the flask?
For if there has been one thing at my side,
it has been that ever supporter of good will, no lies
and it has all that keeps me warm inside.

The author's comments:
The general anxiety of being down with little place left to turn is for me often the most inspiring time. When words of perhaps the best caliber I have are born amidst all the other bable, this is but a piece of such work.

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