Precious Tears

Infinite sadness in the night,
Tears well in her eyes.
Each droplet falls,
Like diamonds from the skies.

Every tear a dying star,
A measure of broken dreams.
Sauntering gently downwards,
In trails of stardust streams.

Every droplet from your eye,
Shed in love for he.
A sigh, a wisp, a breath,
Tear drops falling free.

Precious are the tears of love,
Liquid diamond drops.
She weeps now and then again,
Will ever the sadness stop?

Proseac: The inspiration came from the art piece that I came across while surfing the web. The original artpiece could be found at www.fullmoongraphics.com.

Two Skies, Two Worlds

Loneliness speaks to me
Gentle whispers in my heart
My deepest fears are true
We were meant to be apart

Our different worlds exist
Under two seperate skies
Where yours is clothed in velvet
Mine is draped with lies

Where you have a world to live for
A life fulfilled in full
Mine is a nihilistic world of loneliness
Where I play the fool

The princess and the harlequin
Coupled paradox we make
Not a fault of you that we part
Another cruel twist of fate.

For Every Moment...

For every laughter that escapes my lips
I am reminded of an orphan crying in the world somewhere,

For every sip of wine that I drink
I am reminded a child dying of thirst in the world somewhere,

For every morsel of meat that I eat
I am reminded of a man suffering famine in the world somewhere,

For every festive cheer I feel
I am reminded of a mother in sorrow in the world somewhere,

For every easel of comfort I know
I am reminded of a family tragedy in the world somewhere,

For every moment that I live my life
I am reminded of someone dying senselessly in the world somewhere.

Proseac: I am so utterly thankful for my life, however depressing it may be. In this season of festivities and holidays, take a moment to remind ourselves how truly blessed we really are.

A Bruise, A Cut and A Haemorrhage

A bruise goes beneath the surface, a mark left behind after a bad knock. It hurts quite a bit right after the first knock, but it tends to recover rather quickly. Usually, it does not hurt after that. It only starts hurting again when you prod, massage or exert the bruise. Sometimes, even with prodding, you are not even sure if it really hurts anymore. It tends to tickle a funny bone and makes you laugh. When a bruise heals, you forget that it ever existed.

A cut is the opening of the surface exposing the tender bits underneath. It hurts a lot more after a cut and it recovers a lot slowly. It hurts even after it starts to heal. Prodding and exertion on the wound will break the scab, and the healing process will have to start all over again. The pain is absolute, that you won't ever think its funny. When a cut heals, it sometimes leave a scar, reminding you of the day the cut was made.

A haemmorhage is buried deep inside, a mark of a potentially mortal combustion. It hurts like you've never been hurt before. Usually, even when you have stopped hurting, you still aren't sure if you have healed completely. On the surface everything looks calm and steady, but deep down inside you bleed. Bleed and die. It leaves no scars and you won't even realize that your life and hopes ebb away. The only signs of what happened will be in a post mortem report done in a lab while you lie on the slab in the morgue. In other words, it will always be too late.

Consider the above. Look at my heart. What stage of hurt do you think it is in?

New Year?

Ahhh, the end of 2005 and a 'fresh new start' for the year 2006.
Seemingly I feel compelled to write simply because this day is like a bookmark of sorts. It is supposed to mark the beginning of a 'new chapter' and also bookend the 'old stories'. (Pardon the cliches)
I prefer to think of it as an interlude that temporarily changes the time signature of things. Slowing down the prelude and setting the tune for the coming climax.
Anyhow, to break out of the box a little, I have decided to cheer up my blog (at least a little) with sprinkles of optimism.

So here is to another year ahead.

Cheers,
Proseac