Sometimes a light plays with my head,
daintily showering a brilliant stream,
of firecrackers across my vision.
I always want to warn it of the omnipotent shadow,
looming behind the glitter, growing larger.
But I know this is the fight they play over me.
I try to cry, but the angels took my tears,
I try to scream, but the devils took my voice.
I want to run but they took my will to escape.
My flesh then aches for the words I can't depict,
and I close my eyes to tranquility.
It is quiet when I realize,
I emptied my delicate, lovely light.
The shadow illuminated on the wall,
seems to be genial, but I wonder.
How can I see the shadow, without the angel's light?
I bid it away then,
the jealous, formidable shadow,
and I bring the glitter assuredly back.
Only this time I realize,
that the light is the shadow,
and the shadow is the angels.
I like the mystery of this piece. I has some interesting images. I'm not exactly sure what to make of the dichotomy of devil/angel figures. The ending is a strong realization ...I'm not sure what some of the symbolism.
ReplyDeleteYeah it was hard for me to get what I was trying to say across, I had a feeling it was unclear. I think it needs another revision.
ReplyDeletesometimes I try to map the characters & action like the plot of a shortstory. Perhaps thinking along those lines would help the narrative aspect of this piece.
ReplyDelete