collectanea

Monument

Being almost over a thousand years old,

Remembering when I was still being built.

From just emptiness inside me,

To full of arts, writings and prophecies.

Someone come be with me,

Come and look at me,

I'm full of art, but forgotten.

Come and understand me, I'm full of mysteries

no, I was erased from the minds of humans.

I have a tale to tell, but no one stays to listen.

I long to be appreciated.

Don't leave me alone, forgotten,

I need to tell you something,

Don't leave me hanging like always.

Another 100 years passed,

I only heard bird chirping when the sun shines,

Ear buzzing quietness when all are dark.

Minutes passed, hours passed, days passed,

Even years passed, I've lost count.

I feel a unfamiliar feeling,

Something that's tickling.

The feel's new to me,

Turns out, it was the footsteps of monks.

Does this mean someone's willing to listen to my story?

After all these centuries?

The delicate touch,

Soft brushing I feel,

Over the stories that have been carved for a millennium,

The warnings, the foresees, please tell the world,

Please come back, you've just discovered a small part of me...

white sheets i see,

beeping sounds, footsteps i hear,

all i do everyday is opening my ear,

closing my eyes to see the sea.. ( that's not true lol)

i shift my leg,

a stinging pain is felt. ( nosheet it hurts)

I'm weak, in pain, alone..

white sheets i see,

beeping sounds, footsteps i hear,

all i do everyday is opening my ear,

closing my eyes to see the sea..