-


Letter of the forlorn lover
A lonely one calls, from the prairie or the plains, from the tundra or the Kalahari, wherever it is my voice is coming from. I haven’t anywhere to go, I haven’t anyone to sing about to write about. I am a minion, and without a mistress I shall fizzle out till I finally disappear. Tonight I miss you more than ever, and I would do anything just to spend a few minutes with you. I am a forlorn lover, calling in from the other side of the pipe. Let me in, put me through. I know your dreams are bliss and here I am adding a blemish, but what to do? My heart, like a tired ass has refused to go on, my soul has refused to move on. I know that I am long forgotten, but is it that you chose to forget or you refused to remember me? I am a forlorn lover, calling in from the lee side of the mountain, where the rains never fall and the winds never reach, where we know nothing but dryness and thirst. I am calling from the deserts of thirst and whirlwinds. I am calling to vanity, an empty state of existence, to she with a hardened heart and unsmiling lips. I am writing to a lion who devours all in her path. I am writing to a bushfire that spreads herself all over the vast expanse scorching both the eaters and the eaten. I am writing to you, tucked deep in the enclaves of cupid, you that I never forgot, you that I never stopped to love. I am writing to she who made me cry, you the poison that made me strong. If the wind was fast enough I would sail to you but though I see you, the sea is too hot tempered to let me cross. The chasm is too wide for me to cross over to your side. Why do you mock me, with open arms while you know very well I can’t walk there? I finally agree, I am a fool for you, but I would rather be a fool with you than a fool alone. I’d rather be lonely with you than alone on my own. Remember me, lady of my dreams, remember me again. If my heart wasn’t breaking I wouldn’t have written this, but I have lost enough. What is the use of an ego to a starved soul? What is the use of roots to an uprooted tree? Find me again, you that I loved. Call out in the rain and I shall answer, whisper in the wind and I shall tune my ears. I am desperate for you and hope that you shall reach out from the vain distance and brush a tear away from my cheeks. Hope you shall brush my shoulder with a brazen kiss at night and rock me back to sleep, tell me it’s alright. Tell me that you are back, and everything can be okay again. Tell me that we can figure it all again, that we can start at where we left off. Mend me again, block by block, stitch by stitch. Gather me off the ground and rock me off to sleep, and convince me when I wake up, that this dream shall never end.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

-
If we must die If we must die, let it not be like cows in the slaughter, walking willingly into the bloodbaths, too meek to resist and too trusting to argue. Let us die like buffaloes in a lion chase or ants in a midday march. Let us die like termites in search of freedom in a hostile world. If we must die, let it not be like birds caught in storm or a deer by a hunter’s spear. Let it not be like foxes caught in traps or flies landing on fire. If we must die, let our death not be told to those with faint hearts and loud wails. Let it not be known by those women who know not to keep their mouth shut. Let it not be told to those frail and on the brink lest they tilt over. If we must die, let the news be hushed and kept silent. Let everyone be told that we refused to be vanquished, that the flame refused to be extinguished. Let them be told that it is not graves but a mound full of seeds and flowers. Lord, if we must die, let us waft out into your presence like sacred incense. Send a ch
Read more
-
Where did you go? I am a walking carcass hoping for a wind strong enough to carry me away, a rain harsh enough to dissolve me into a lump of soil. If I could erase all these memories and go back to the days before I met you, I would. But how sad that I roll in torture during the night and burn during the day. Tell me, old friend, you who made me feel special and important, where did the wind take you? Should I cry for time that conspired against us or should I let you shoulder the burden? I have been reduced into a mess of tears and regret. I have lost my trust and my confidence, come to me, you who gave me strength and take me with you. Tell me I was dreaming and tuck me back to sleep. Smother me with the pillow so I will not wake from this, for what is life, when she that I adored and loved in equal measure walked out on me? Look at me now as I wade knee deep in mud and slime, look at me as I stretch my hands to take you back but oh how far away you are. Come messiah, before
Read more
-
Blandness Many times you have let it be, that anger has blinded your eyes and ire has taken over your life. You have embraced sorrow for so long, and you have stayed too long in your bed of grief, that you remember no more what it feels to be happy. You have ceased to live, and life has long left you. You were a bee, but you have long convinced yourself that you are a fly. Oh son, you have allowed death to rule your soul. You have allowed darkness to carry a sceptre, and declare itself king in the kingdom of your being. You have been chained to a post, by an imaginary rope, and you have been held back by your own fear, like a dog without a chain, but still lies around the chaining post. You have closed the doors and the windows and allowed the smoke to sail into your heart. You have broken all the mirrors because when you look at them you see not the scar on your face but that in your heart, but oh, they do not lie. Count not the graveyards lest they sprout outside in your yard. Do no
Read more