Furor Poeticus

[aVriL1036]

My life is an empty page
A memoir encased in amber
Pain, oblivion, rage
Ebbing stones lodged by a stranger.

My heart is a casket
A dying dream of forever
Love, hurt, regret
A requiem buried by a stranger.

I hold my life like a pen
Feel the passion of anger
Through cold chains bound by men
Walking along a lone road made by a stranger.

I hold my heart like a lake
Feel the coldness of stupor
Through the heat of songs men make
While dancing to the tune of the stranger.

I hid my palms behind my back
While men raised their hands to her
They made an idol out of words of black
And nurtured their own stranger.

Their hands were free and light
Mine were edged stones beneath a river
Yet, the songs I sing captivates the night
For I have wings, I am no stranger.

Avril is hugging her pillows.  8O

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