The fiery stems of hell
Reached out to touch her mind.
She is unknown to herself
And to her own kind.
She was no human
And never will be
But whether she was real or not,
We shall see.
Snatched from my embrasing arms,
She met her doom
Among the scorching flames
That became her tomb.
My friend, my lover
Is gone from me
I must find her
I must find the key
To unlock her unconcious
And bring her back,
To remember herself
And what began to lack.
She is back, I can see.
Noone knows why she did it
Nor did she know
The reason why she summoned
The engulfing hole.
The pure soul that once
Refined her nature
Is now split
Between her stature.
She has come back
For me.
What were her intensions,
I will soon see.
Her body was never made
Nor was it broken
Only her spirit remained
And her words spoken.
Was she me?
How should I know?
A feminine ghost
In a male body, you know.
A part of me, perhaps
A part I never knew
Is gone from me
Her soul I can't renew.
She is back, I can see.
The ghost once a part of me.
2007-07-25
10:45:19
·
3 answers
·
asked by
Anthony C
4
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry
Yet, I can not come to the conclusion
Of who she really is
Now I do not care
What poem is this?
She has been in my thoughts
I feel she's in me
But her existence
I cannot see.
2007-07-25
13:46:28 ·
update #1
She has come back, I can see.
She is not me, but nevertheless
Exists in and out
Of my conciousness.
2007-07-25
13:49:33 ·
update #2