don't know where it came from
Some one else's orchid
In the oasis of my own thoughts, I sip at a cocktail intended for someone else in another time. Allowing for the rays of a borrowed sun to burn me out and dry me up, I wander past the same immaculate walls that have surrounded me for some time. The drug you've given me keeps me in a shroud of my own making and I stray from one memory to the next losing track of time and self in the depths and complexities of your actions on my life. The life that I once had has now fled from my body leaving behind a manipulation of the truth that shines for you alone and leaves a dark hole in its place for others of my kind. The sun keeps the drug from leaving my system and allows for you to watch my digression.
The cloud of another's making and separate intent blocks your thoughts for me and I reach out to the cool embrace of clarity. The rain the feeds my soul and has been for so long with held caresses me again in the form of a memory of self. I watch the harshly familiar sun battle for control with the welcomely strange cloud. Shadows turn to light and false truths lose their grip, falling away into the oblivion of someone else's soul. The newly gained ground my mind seeks to lay claim to is hard to hold, as no purchase is willing to be bought. Realizing in a rush, just as a flood of awakening bursts over me threatening to drown out all else, that the hold I seek so furiously is of your own creation, leaves a coldness in my throat. The walls of my confinement, which had never fully been able to cage me, now fade away and leave in their place a view of the desert I have become.
The oasis turns to a charred ruin of a dream and I walk out of it to gain prospective. This prospective is offered by the uplifting drafts cause by the clouds and allows for my own thoughts to form once again. Slowly the sun loses it dazzling affect and the cocktail its sweet grip and I open my inner eyes. Seeing the disarray that my thoughts lie in, an anger born of willing oppression freezes away the last of my shell and your encasement.
Being suddenly left with such a different form than the one you've so carefully tended, as though I'm of your own private garden, stops the rays of your glaring sun. In the place of your unwelcome warmth is the moon's healing rays. Vows given hundreds of years ago and in generations that lent me life, are once again on my lips. A moments hesitation is gently ended as the cloud once again brushes my shoulder and lends me its strength without stealing away my own.
A mark on my brow and one in my heart let me know I have passed into a new circle and away from an enclosure that held me still.
Rolling time plays on and shadows reform allowing for me to be once again lost in a world not my own. Garden paths paved in loss lead me down a road that whispers of familiarity. The cloud is beaten away by my possessive sun and I am blinded by its seeming radiance another time as a feeling of duty draws me back. The ache deep with in myself that calls for a pain and punishment reaches out to this old source of perverted comfort. With hands already scared from your heat I once again allow you to pull me under.
Maybe one day the cloud will take me away to that world of moon drenched clarity and show me the path to myself and own soul again. Until that storm and change comes I sip my cocktail once more and know not weather to hope for sounds of thunder or the deception of a bird's morning call.
In the oasis of my own thoughts, I sip at a cocktail intended for someone else in another time. Allowing for the rays of a borrowed sun to burn me out and dry me up, I wander past the same immaculate walls that have surrounded me for some time. The drug you've given me keeps me in a shroud of my own making and I stray from one memory to the next losing track of time and self in the depths and complexities of your actions on my life. The life that I once had has now fled from my body leaving behind a manipulation of the truth that shines for you alone and leaves a dark hole in its place for others of my kind. The sun keeps the drug from leaving my system and allows for you to watch my digression.
The cloud of another's making and separate intent blocks your thoughts for me and I reach out to the cool embrace of clarity. The rain the feeds my soul and has been for so long with held caresses me again in the form of a memory of self. I watch the harshly familiar sun battle for control with the welcomely strange cloud. Shadows turn to light and false truths lose their grip, falling away into the oblivion of someone else's soul. The newly gained ground my mind seeks to lay claim to is hard to hold, as no purchase is willing to be bought. Realizing in a rush, just as a flood of awakening bursts over me threatening to drown out all else, that the hold I seek so furiously is of your own creation, leaves a coldness in my throat. The walls of my confinement, which had never fully been able to cage me, now fade away and leave in their place a view of the desert I have become.
The oasis turns to a charred ruin of a dream and I walk out of it to gain prospective. This prospective is offered by the uplifting drafts cause by the clouds and allows for my own thoughts to form once again. Slowly the sun loses it dazzling affect and the cocktail its sweet grip and I open my inner eyes. Seeing the disarray that my thoughts lie in, an anger born of willing oppression freezes away the last of my shell and your encasement.
Being suddenly left with such a different form than the one you've so carefully tended, as though I'm of your own private garden, stops the rays of your glaring sun. In the place of your unwelcome warmth is the moon's healing rays. Vows given hundreds of years ago and in generations that lent me life, are once again on my lips. A moments hesitation is gently ended as the cloud once again brushes my shoulder and lends me its strength without stealing away my own.
A mark on my brow and one in my heart let me know I have passed into a new circle and away from an enclosure that held me still.
Rolling time plays on and shadows reform allowing for me to be once again lost in a world not my own. Garden paths paved in loss lead me down a road that whispers of familiarity. The cloud is beaten away by my possessive sun and I am blinded by its seeming radiance another time as a feeling of duty draws me back. The ache deep with in myself that calls for a pain and punishment reaches out to this old source of perverted comfort. With hands already scared from your heat I once again allow you to pull me under.
Maybe one day the cloud will take me away to that world of moon drenched clarity and show me the path to myself and own soul again. Until that storm and change comes I sip my cocktail once more and know not weather to hope for sounds of thunder or the deception of a bird's morning call.