Him:
In his mind's cavernous abyss,
Thoughts run rampant, wild and free
Ravaging his soul with a guilt laden memory
Eternal wanderer in a quest for bliss,
And what does he have to show?
Heavy lies the crown of thorns.
But the bearer it adorns,
Has a beatific smile, the sun shining on his brow.
And the wanderer spake,
Pain is incidental,
But suffering is a choice you make.
Her:
Take her hand, as she leads you into an open field
Sunshine surrounds you, engulfing your innermost darkness
In her arms, is that elusive bliss
And her touch is a healing balm
Awaiting you is the warmth of her womb
Show them who condemn, the fruit of love
The storm has passed
The skies have cleared
Its time for you to surrender your saddle
Because, my sweet wanderer, you are finally home.
Note: Only the second half is penned by me.
2 comments:
Nicely written :) 'Surrender my saddle' is something I've been longing to do for quite sometime...
I remember reading the first one on a friend's page :P
Thanks 'walker' and yes, we do have a common friend who is quite a talented pencil-pusher himself.... :)
And surrendering the saddle is tough.... coming to terms with one's past is not an easy job...
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