pandora (ii)

ii. hopeless, hopeful

it was a morning of september
it was a morning to remember
it was a morning it started
it was a morning all had ended
it was a morning alright..
yet everything’s without a light
yet everything’s engulfed by the night

the evening stayed as morning looms
the sun skipped over the dark new moon
for hours i’ve been pointlessly wandering
wondering if i should still trust what i’m following
a hoard of butterflies, as i’ve previously said
each one of them looks really dead
regardless of that, i still blindly followed
these creatures as they soar down the deserted road
as if i’m hearing a certain commanding voice
or maybe the setting just left me with no other choice

what am i doing? why am i still living?
how can i get out of this dreadful dreaming?
for hours i’ve seen nothing but death
for hours, a single life i haven’t met
would it be easier just to join the party?
of those silver ghosts, moaning in misery?
at least i wouldn’t be alone
at least i wouldn’t be alone..

what was that?

i heard it again, a voice, not a weep
what was that? coming straight down the street?
the voice was real, i wasn’t imagining
i heard the voice again, pleading, calling
a soft voice heard from inside my mind
a voice so beautiful and is one of a kind
i haven’t heard such pleasing timbre in my life
but now i have, i remembered everything can be a lie
with this, i realized, no one deserved just to die
i continued to follow the voice with the butterflies
hoping, praying, that i’d see another one alive

the trail led me to a place of my past
i’ve watched hundreds gather in a room so vast
flying in a circle, they seem to be guarding
a curious shape at the center of the building
i’ve heard them screech, they acted so violent
they seem to be protective of their own sentiment
should i leave? should i go near?
i don’t really know, i’m paralyzed in fear
of the guardians i was following
i never thought they could be this threatening
i sat down on the chipped floor, deciding to wait
i always can’t do anything, that’s what i’ve always hate
in my life, in my real life
what is real? is this right?

<< of silvers and butterflies (i) || not alone (iii) >>

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~ by thirdnadora on September 25, 2012.

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