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



It is, after all

The very essence of my soul
















This poem is about: 


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