How long have I silently been begging,
Quietly
whispering a wordless prayer.
That my very soul
clings to,
A hope that has
yet to be answered.
Nothing can
express it,
No words, no
emotion,
Not a single
thing can.
It’s a question without
an answer,
An answer without
a question.
Why do I so easily
lose myself to stories?
Fantasies that
are my escape.
Why do I lose
myself to dreams,
To thoughts of
another world of my creation.
I can’t explain,
I can’t describe,
What it is that
makes me who I am.
For I don’t even truly
know myself.
So many words I
have spoken,
So many words I
have written.
Indomitable,
hope, dreams,
Pain, thoughts,
so many words,
Too many for me
to remember.
Too many to
describe.
How long have I
silently been begging,
Quietly
whispering a wordless prayer.
That my very soul
clings to,
A hope that has
yet to be answered.
A hope I put into
stories of my own,
Even as I
cling to my memories,
The thoughts, the feelings,
Everything that is now gone,
And will never happen again.
Time keeps moving,
Even as I beg for
it to stop,
To turn back to
what I wish to keep.
Yet, it seems the
world does not care for me.
Even a god it
seems, if they exist,
Does not care for
me.
Why I ask, for
what reason,
Am I even here?
My heart is
fragile,
My mind is
flawed,
My soul is
screaming,
Why was I born
broken?
Why am I this
way?
Please why, is
all I ask.
Yet nothing, has
answered me.
How long have I
silently been begging,
Quietly
whispering a wordless prayer.
That my very soul
clings to,
A hope that has
yet to be answered.
A dream that is
simply a dream,
One that my very
soul clings to.
Silently weaving,
quietly existing,
Is the silent
storyteller,
Who remembers all,
But is forgotten
by the world.
That is all that
I am,
A storyteller,
A star made of
glass,
A lost bird,
A wandering soul,
That’s stuck in between.
Just who am I?
Why am I here?
Even as I cling
to my memories,
The thoughts, the
feelings,
Everything that
is now gone,
And will never
happen again.
So many words I
have spoken,
So many words I
have written.
So many,
Too many for me
to remember.
Too many to
describe.
Nothing can
express it,
No words, no
emotion,
Not a single
thing can.
It’s a question
without an answer,
An answer without
a question.
Why do I so
easily lose myself to stories?
Fantasies that
are my escape.
Why do I lose
myself to dreams,
To thoughts of another
world of my creation.
I’m crying as I
smile for you,
I’m screaming
out,
Even in the
calming silence.
I only pretend to
be strong,
Even when I am,
I’m not.
I’m afraid of falling,
I’m afraid of
staying broken,
I’m afraid so
many things,
Things that nothing
can describe.
How long have I
silently been begging,
Quietly
whispering a wordless prayer.
That my very soul
clings to,
A hope that has
yet to be answered.
A dream, that is
just a dream,
The hope born
from a child’s love.
A love my now heartbroken
soul,
So delicately embraces.
A love, a light,
a star of glass,
My wordless prayer.
That is all I am,
Even at the very
end;
“Silently
weaving, quietly existing,”
“Is the silent
storyteller,”
“Who remembers
all,”
“But is forgotten
by the world.”
“All while
quietly whispering,”
“A wordless prayer.”
