Beneath the surface

The older I get,

the more I realise

just how like the sea I am.

It was always blue to me,

that liquid expanse of horizon.

Melancholic with longing.

A churning, churlish mass of feeling,

everything happening beneath the surface,

much like my own insides.

A soul at turns calm or chaotic.

But as quickly as it is stirred,

bellowing forth with a tempest of emotion,

it is released and gentles itself.

Changeable tides

that ebb and flow as response,

some inner metronome

that keeps a steady beat

like my heart.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from White Noten, unsourced

A breath of ashes

It is a fire that rages

with violence

Burning with a vivid emotion

undeclared

unnamed

unembraced

that engulfs us

We become the Phoenix

rising from within

A breath of ashes

becoming the oxygen

we need to survive

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©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Artwork by eiladh at Deviant Art; “Shade”

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Irresolute

I will not speak to you through my words.

though you will find my answer there.

I will give you my voice

untutored

and irresolute

replete with the cracks and inflection of emotion

as I battle myself

and allow a dismantling of this mighty fortress I’ve erected.

Each stone removed

giving way to vigorous expression of thought

becoming certain

urged on by the slight presence of fingers

at the small of my back.

No guide

simply assurance.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from White Noten

 

The Aged Door

Her senses were assaulted

First by the briny, tangy salt air smell

And then by the crashing of the waves

Upon the rocks

She followed smell and sound

To the aged door

Leading down to the sea

To her secret place

The one that tugged at her heart

And lifted her soul

Photo taken from Pinterest

Offering

Letters

Penned in my blood

Parts of my soul

Etched onto paper

An offering of myself

Each day

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The Maze of Life

She wandered through

The maze of her life

Searching for 

Happiness

Understanding 

Love

Only to find

That she was close enough

To see it

But not close enough

To touch

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A Ghost

She has become a ghost

To him

Invisible to the naked eye

He hears her faint whispers

In his ear

But cannot see her

His head is full of other images

He cannot remember her

She has become

An elusive hint

Of something warm

Something special

Something tender

And loving 

He cannot see her

But he can feel her

She has settled into his skin

His quiet passenger

Photo taken from the internet. Original location not known. If it is yours and you wish me to remove please let me know.