The Observer's Ballad
I am a ghost of my own universe
Observing silently as the world flies past
Unable to speak
Unable to act
Even when my entire existence
Seethes and overflows with passion
Even when I can no longer hold back tears,
When my body shakes and collapses
Swallowing barely concealed sobs
My body refuses to respond
And my mind can only bellow in silence
Alone, the story is different
With a pen and my thoughts for company
With my voice and heaven as my audience
I let my emotions take to the sky
I weave rhapsodies and melodies
Draping myself in the song of language
Laying my soul bare for the sky and sea
I used to burn as I write
My words lasting mere minutes
Before dissolving to smoke and ashes
And my song, if i should sing
dissapates into air and mist
And disguises itself as the wind
Before another soul can register it's presence
My words and my song
Are, and have always been
One and the same
My soul is woven tight
Into every vibration of my vocal chords
Every flick of my wrist
Every stroke of my pen
The core of me ome to light
Poetry is when the deepest parts of myself
Come into the light
Without any persona
Or image to live up to be
It remans hidden
Temporary
Private
It is, after all
The very essence of my soul