She cannot see her beauty.
Remnant structure disables a vision here,
as resonance accelerates further,
further.
Take me Home. Take me Home.
What deluded us, re-wrote a contract so impossible, a brutality of self, a destruction in soul...
She walks seeing so much, too much, seeing minds and thoughts and tactics,
Too much, too much...
She sees the whole. And they do not.
Nobody sees as she sees, and nobody sees her...
Her magnificence despite the complexity
Forgotten love for a five year old
Everything a man could want and more than any man have
A presence so rich, such intoxication,
Her departure creates an opiate agony of withdrawal apparent that it is punishable upon her
She walks alone
Dancing amid light, instrumental upon the strings of life,
Enamoured by compassion,
Her weaponry is truth.
She rides an all-present stallion of bliss in her work
They grasp, they clutch, they need, they cry,
Her embrace is full,
Real,
True.
Her children clutched in her heart, wrapped to her stride, alighting in her laughter, the shine in the shards of her eyes,
Her family like arrowhead unstructured, present, protected
She is scout
She is statistic
She steps forward her vision’s lens is them...
She walks alone
Sore wasted heart, withered from ongoing,
unending generosity of sharing, holding, comforting, soothing, embracing, uplifting,
giving, giving, giving...
Greyed and cast upon the earth,
shrivelled and fatigued,
a pulse as strong as the resolute warrior will allow in gentility,
the damage is present...
The wasted heart refuses reception
She walks alone
Opacity guarding the withered drum is deteriorating,
Fragmented, frenetic,
Reception is apparent, beauty visible from core
She walks...
as fingers are lacing into hers
Melissa Hocking February 2010
Remnant structure disables a vision here,
as resonance accelerates further,
further.
Take me Home. Take me Home.
What deluded us, re-wrote a contract so impossible, a brutality of self, a destruction in soul...
She walks seeing so much, too much, seeing minds and thoughts and tactics,
Too much, too much...
She sees the whole. And they do not.
Nobody sees as she sees, and nobody sees her...
Her magnificence despite the complexity
Forgotten love for a five year old
Everything a man could want and more than any man have
A presence so rich, such intoxication,
Her departure creates an opiate agony of withdrawal apparent that it is punishable upon her
She walks alone
Dancing amid light, instrumental upon the strings of life,
Enamoured by compassion,
Her weaponry is truth.
She rides an all-present stallion of bliss in her work
They grasp, they clutch, they need, they cry,
Her embrace is full,
Real,
True.
Her children clutched in her heart, wrapped to her stride, alighting in her laughter, the shine in the shards of her eyes,
Her family like arrowhead unstructured, present, protected
She is scout
She is statistic
She steps forward her vision’s lens is them...
She walks alone
Sore wasted heart, withered from ongoing,
unending generosity of sharing, holding, comforting, soothing, embracing, uplifting,
giving, giving, giving...
Greyed and cast upon the earth,
shrivelled and fatigued,
a pulse as strong as the resolute warrior will allow in gentility,
the damage is present...
The wasted heart refuses reception
She walks alone
Opacity guarding the withered drum is deteriorating,
Fragmented, frenetic,
Reception is apparent, beauty visible from core
She walks...
as fingers are lacing into hers
Melissa Hocking February 2010
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