Perhaps a Letter...
"Lola - Violent Dawn"
Drawn in toned paper and Edited for contrast
Drawn in toned paper and Edited for contrast
Including the memories and those Me that did not last,
These words I pen to thee,
For you passed me by so swifty,
That I never had the chance to sit with thee,
Yet parts of you still cling and rest to me,
So I write to those who flee.
Whenever you come to me,
A mixed bag of sensibilities is what I see.
You bring warmth and sentiment,
Yet uneasiness and ugly truths are also present.
With festivities all around,
I too partake in the merriments of sound.
The cold breeze, the morning dew,
The sun's tender rays, the green of the view,
My beloved pets, all these pleasantries,
What more could I ever ask?
All the while as I sit alone,
I start to count my deeds,
Whilst a faint smile appears, worries creep.
What did I even do for the whole year?
Apparently, August was the most memorable,
For he has spoiled me rotten, showed me softness,
September was fine and lenient,
October and November were rough,
Nevertheless, they still made me smile and laugh.
Often taking glances at the mirror,
That sometimes shows me what I desire,
"But I know every part of you", the reflection speaks,
"So why do you appear helpless at times,
Before those who barely know you?".
Oh, my dearest,
For all the flattery and honeyed words,
Equates to nothing but vanity,
For those phrases can never be a foundation of thee.
I have seen you change like seasons,
Mustered up weather of emotions.
Anxious as I lay await what's to come,
It puts me on pins and needles, eager for some,
Chances and opportunities to play, cry, laugh, and ponder,
To witness life and all its wonder.
My dearest,
You have sculpted the present me,
And made me a student of constant change.
In this everchanging world,
I have been a damsel for your gentleness,
And been your warrior for the past months.
With that, I bid farewell,
As I write this while the lights fade,
In a place far from the city and its raid.
With a kiss, my dearest thee,
You will always change, that's bound to happen,
May you always be kind and merciful,
For vanity may arise once in a while,
But never deny that it has visited you,
Learn to sit with it and search its roots,
So you may understand me, fully and true,
As sometimes you look back in nostalgia and blue.
Sincerely,
The Present You
Looking at one's past with a certain vanity is a completely different aspect. I will think about. Thank you very much;-))
😊 Thank you. This is what I thought of when I read the word, and a mix of emotions has visited me while writing this. 😆
Thanks for sharing :) Love it :) Cheers :)
Thanks! Appreciate it. 😊