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O Patriarch, O FatherO Patriarch, O Father, hast thou forgotten youth?
Has thy past fallen away in thy pursuit of Truth?
Thou was once like I before: innocent and confused
Yet thou cannot grasp precisely why I feel abused
Tell me thou has never known the pain of heart and mind
Being out of sync - the beats, they never fall in line
The starlings in formation, they know how to be whole
Never plagued by the lack of unity in their soul
O Patriarch, O Father, thou claims a wisdom great
Yet why can't thou find ground upon which we can relate?
Before thyself I am naught but man before a god
Passively allowing thou to break down my facade
Thy eyes have aged to view this world through a diff'rent lens
But is it truly thy place to take my eyes to cleanse?
Thou calls thyself a teacher - I know thy intention
Yet our feet on 'posing sides create this contention
O Patriarch, O Father, I'm sorry for it all
The silence and the anger and between us, this wall
Thou wants me independent, and yet thou should know
It does not
The metronomic repetition of a heart monitor was the first sign that I was waking up.
It had started out as a faintly indistinct sound in the back of my mind, too insignificant to even heed any thought to, then the sound became a shatteringly clarion noise as it collided with the front of my mind with the velocity of a freight train. As heavy eyelids opened up to the world, they were greeted with a gray-and-white tiled ceiling, a simple checkerboard lined with parallel sets of dim fluorescent lighting. As feeling returned to my nerves, I realized I was lying in a bed. From the appearance of the room that surrounded me, it was easy to substantiate that I was in a hospital room.
With each pulse of blood through my veins that instigated more activity from the heart monitor came thought processes, as if every beat my heart performed pushed new thoughts through my bloodstream and to my brain. It was random at first, all these thoughts coming in
The Monster Under The BedListen, my children, and you shall hear
The night I confronted my greatest fear
The monster hiding beneath my bed
Was waiting most anxiously to be fed
What could it be? Why was it there?
A creature of scales, of horns, and hair
I lay awake every single night
Listening to its heavy snores with much fright
I've tried to reason with the terrible beast
But it always growls as if I'm it's next feast
And even though I feed it canned food
It still comes at me in a manner quite shrewd
When my mother asked me where the food had gone
I told her the monster needed it for brawn
She checked under the bed to see for herself
But it had vanished like some common house elf
It returned at night to sleep for free
Probably feeling full of glee
It was then I decided to mount an attack
I would not be the brute's next tasty snack
Next day, I donned a hockey helmet and stick
Ready to give the beast a good kick
Slowly I entered my darkening room
Reluctantly going to confront my doom
With a good strong push the
Far and Close
A Polaroid photo to remember her by remained taped to the ceiling above my bed so that whenever I lay awake at night, unable to pass into my dreams, I would be able to gaze upon that sweet face and speculate about what would have happened if our families hadn't stepped in and brought both of our lives crashing down to below our foundations.
We were high school sweethearts, you could say, but it wasn't the shallow kind of love a person would normally expect after seeing all those sappy love dramas that Hollywood and novelists had spun up and then getting let down by their crushes - it was real. And by real, I mean that you could feel our passion in the air surrounding our bodies, a benevolent aura of emotion and hope for the future that continuously pushed the oxygen away from the both of us.
I loved her with my heart and soul, something I never felt capable of admitting before. I loved her more than anything, more than life itself, and I was absolutely sure of it - no
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More