Him and a Spoken Work collection

Him

He moved like the sea.

I watched him crashing with the cliffs,

Carrying sediments of love, lust and passion.

He resembled the sharp branches,

He carried leaves full of painful memories.

And gave home to the enemies.

When I stared into his icy blue eyes,

I recognised his need for peace, for freedom.

His voice was like a melody.

He had been played with skilful hands,

On a piano that looked deceitfully brand new,

But held the secret of many generations.

He was born in a soft delicate rose,

One that had blossomed many years ago,

But was beginning to wither in cold loneliness.

He slept like a puppy,

Whimpering in fear,

Hoping that tonight,

His dreams would not be evaded like all the previous nights.

His thoughts were like perfume,

Felt good on others,

But on his skin made him feel intoxicated.

His skin reflected the surface of a rainbow.

And if you really tried to,

You would get a beautiful mix of his brownish efforts

The one's that had now gone in vain.

His actions were like a ballerina,

So swift as he gracefully leapt into the air.

His mind was reckless,

Danger was weaved into his skin.

When I heard the splash, I cried.

Now he was the sea,

His body, a sediment,

As he was swept away,

His eyes forever closed,

His heart forever still,

His mind forever blank.

His colour forever gone.