Pourquoi me torturer encore l'esprit de ton corps, de ton odeur...de ton souvenir. Ouvrir la plaie, la morsure et l'y regarder, toutes ces choses que mon âme ne saurait oublier. Je t'avais pourtant tout donné, et j'avais espéré. Souhaité que nous puissions utiliser le verbe "Être" et non pas juste "Aimer". Et puis tu m'as frappé, jauché de douleurs et de peurs que je n'aurais cru possible. J'ai crié, j'ai hurlé, puis j'ai tenté d'oublier. Tout. Oublier tout. La soie de ta peau, L'alcool de ton odeur, les frisottis de ta tignace en bataille.
Oublier. Sombrer. Se noyer.
Tu es revenu, prince et fier destrier, sur ton cheval blanc, et j'avais cru cessé de croire. Cesser de voir ces fées, ces châteaux, ces étoiles dans le ciel. Mais aujourd'hui leurs ombres continuent de me hanter. Tu es toujours là, à retenir mon âme sur cette terre aride, à me faire souffrir. J'en porte ta croix, le souvenir d'un bonheur éphémère. Oui je t'aimais, je t'aimais comme personne au monde. Tu étais le soleil et la lune, et je n'avais jamais aimé... Et j'ai éclaté... Éclaté en sanglots perdus, en sanglots déchus, en sanglots interdits.
Pourquoi me torturer encore l'esprit....
De ton corps....
De ton odeur....
De ton souvenir.....
...mon ange déchu?
Monday, July 6, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Three little words....
Hidding low from the shadows of past,
Gust of wind flapping through their ragged clothes,
Alone and crushed from hunger and sadness,
Three young ones grieving in the mists of their sorrow.
Three of them there were and not one older than another,
Souls of power and greatness standing head high and proud,
Only one slightly taller than the two others,
Offered to the prince and the charming dream both in a blist of a smile.
But prince charming came one day and walked down the path,
Unlike any other day before the red rose showed its sting,
Tore appart my veil of happiness, and chained me to the dark,
Took away what once was and denied me what could have been.
My soul got trapped in a collar of pain,
My heart got broken and drowned in cold waters of despair,
Destroying in a bliss the meaning of three little words offered too soon,
Burning down my personnal garden, and shaking it down to the ground.
Now Once in a while under a bright moon light,
A lightbearer with his lantern high up comes to pass,
Staring with bright eyes at a garden before him for the taking,
With three little words missing from the painting.
None of them as yet ever happened to stumble upon them,
Souls of power and greatness that were once the tallest and brightest,
For the moon does not shine under the trees of ones long gone,
Out of suffering and death, nothing comes from beyond.
And though I can feel love again and do love him,
I feel sad that my soulmate shall never hear from my lips,
Three little words of power and passion stolen away,
One little "I love you" too hard to say.
Still hidding in the shadows of the past, it is hurt and grieving for what it could now be, but cannot be.
Gust of wind flapping through their ragged clothes,
Alone and crushed from hunger and sadness,
Three young ones grieving in the mists of their sorrow.
Three of them there were and not one older than another,
Souls of power and greatness standing head high and proud,
Only one slightly taller than the two others,
Offered to the prince and the charming dream both in a blist of a smile.
But prince charming came one day and walked down the path,
Unlike any other day before the red rose showed its sting,
Tore appart my veil of happiness, and chained me to the dark,
Took away what once was and denied me what could have been.
My soul got trapped in a collar of pain,
My heart got broken and drowned in cold waters of despair,
Destroying in a bliss the meaning of three little words offered too soon,
Burning down my personnal garden, and shaking it down to the ground.
Now Once in a while under a bright moon light,
A lightbearer with his lantern high up comes to pass,
Staring with bright eyes at a garden before him for the taking,
With three little words missing from the painting.
None of them as yet ever happened to stumble upon them,
Souls of power and greatness that were once the tallest and brightest,
For the moon does not shine under the trees of ones long gone,
Out of suffering and death, nothing comes from beyond.
And though I can feel love again and do love him,
I feel sad that my soulmate shall never hear from my lips,
Three little words of power and passion stolen away,
One little "I love you" too hard to say.
Still hidding in the shadows of the past, it is hurt and grieving for what it could now be, but cannot be.
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