Friday, June 7, 2013

A Home & A Hand

I am a twisted root, I am a fortified wall;
You care not to explain.
The anima; At once I cry with joyous rapture for the burden, the breath, and breadth, of my being;
at the same time, I torment over the callousness of this very same breadth.

Like the root, I run deep.

Intertwined in all of you; my actions, alongside yours,
like Atlas, carry the weight of the world upon my shoulders.

I lament.

An amoeba,
a serpent;

A flower,
yet not one that cares for your touch;

a valley,
a trail,
a home,
a heart & the truth;

we must bear the weight of our actions.
I must do so.

Although, to commit, is an entirely different thing.

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