PoeTRY VAULT::: The Diary of a Lone Soldier -But my personal prosperity means nothing to me, My heart moves for the people… drifting… and all is opulence is a luxury that was not intended for people like me… My heart moves for the people… Only.
Hey guys and gals - I'm breaking open the poetry vault again - Hope you enjoy:
-----------------------
October 16, 2006 • Monday
the diary of a lone soldier
Current mood: gloomy
The Diary of a Lone Soldier
And this is the diary of a lone soldier,
With no one here to hold her
She cries her eyes to sleep
Hoping one day this world will all fade
And the life she aspires to have will exist.
And this is the diary of a lone soldier,
Although there is not much to this…
She feels alone and has no home
…yet
Physically not alone,
For she has the company of many…
She is wanted… desired, but inside her…
She is alone.
This is the diary of a lone soldier…
She is misplaced, confused about where she belongs...
She simply longs… for a home.
She longs to be loved unconditionally…
A love that will not give up or leave…
"This is the kind of love I need."
And this is the diary of lone soldier..
Who feels so out of place,
She does not belong here but she has nothing to go home to…
So she stays,
Secretly hoping she will not survive to see another day…
She does.
And her heart is torn to pieces too small to glue back together…
So she alone in her thoughts…
They lead her here:
" Drifting m e a n i n g l e s s l y seems to leave me in a place I cannot see
nor can I understand.
And as I stand -
Everyday that passes I become a little more defined in my ideals.
A sense of mystery captures me.
I, not knowing of the path before me,
- walk it.
Its not all talk for it
takes courage-
You see you must be bold and unwavering in your ways to go the places I've been.
Stand up for your cause
and say the things others would rather have left
w i t h i n.
But d r i f t i n g meaninglessly is not for me,
I find sanctity in the comforts of my original
yet unconventional convictions.
Asking the questions and the demanding answers to the questions that most would rather leave u n a n s w e r e d.
I render not the satisfaction of this unneeded luxury to those given the privilege of thinking they are superior to me.
I find myself feeling no respect for the imprudent "leaders" who demand such from me.
I desire to live only in Love,
but these reckless wars that are eradicating and destroying my country trouble me.
But my personal prosperity means nothing to me,
My heart moves for the people… drifting… and all it's opulence... is a luxury
not intended for people like me…
you see my heart moves for the people…
Only. "
THIS IS… the diary of a lone soldier,
Of a revolutionary
Of a lonely soul…
Not quite alone…
But the feeling is all the same.
This is the diary that has no name,
No owner.
No lover.
No fear,
nOr doubt.
This is the diary of a heart that grows colder and colder by the day,
A distant look, and a fake smile,
This is not her style… but this is the diary…
The thoughts…
The fears and pride…
The hopes and dreams….
Of mE.
Surrounded.
Yet So Alone.
..
the poet without a home
"Poeta nascitur, non fit."
-----------------------
October 16, 2006 • Monday
the diary of a lone soldier
Current mood: gloomy
The Diary of a Lone Soldier
And this is the diary of a lone soldier,
With no one here to hold her
She cries her eyes to sleep
Hoping one day this world will all fade
And the life she aspires to have will exist.
And this is the diary of a lone soldier,
Although there is not much to this…
She feels alone and has no home
…yet
Physically not alone,
For she has the company of many…
She is wanted… desired, but inside her…
She is alone.
This is the diary of a lone soldier…
She is misplaced, confused about where she belongs...
She simply longs… for a home.
She longs to be loved unconditionally…
A love that will not give up or leave…
"This is the kind of love I need."
And this is the diary of lone soldier..
Who feels so out of place,
She does not belong here but she has nothing to go home to…
So she stays,
Secretly hoping she will not survive to see another day…
She does.
And her heart is torn to pieces too small to glue back together…
So she alone in her thoughts…
They lead her here:
" Drifting m e a n i n g l e s s l y seems to leave me in a place I cannot see
nor can I understand.
And as I stand -
Everyday that passes I become a little more defined in my ideals.
A sense of mystery captures me.
I, not knowing of the path before me,
- walk it.
Its not all talk for it
takes courage-
You see you must be bold and unwavering in your ways to go the places I've been.
Stand up for your cause
and say the things others would rather have left
w i t h i n.
But d r i f t i n g meaninglessly is not for me,
I find sanctity in the comforts of my original
yet unconventional convictions.
Asking the questions and the demanding answers to the questions that most would rather leave u n a n s w e r e d.
I render not the satisfaction of this unneeded luxury to those given the privilege of thinking they are superior to me.
I find myself feeling no respect for the imprudent "leaders" who demand such from me.
I desire to live only in Love,
but these reckless wars that are eradicating and destroying my country trouble me.
But my personal prosperity means nothing to me,
My heart moves for the people… drifting… and all it's opulence... is a luxury
not intended for people like me…
you see my heart moves for the people…
Only. "
THIS IS… the diary of a lone soldier,
Of a revolutionary
Of a lonely soul…
Not quite alone…
But the feeling is all the same.
This is the diary that has no name,
No owner.
No lover.
No fear,
nOr doubt.
This is the diary of a heart that grows colder and colder by the day,
A distant look, and a fake smile,
This is not her style… but this is the diary…
The thoughts…
The fears and pride…
The hopes and dreams….
Of mE.
Surrounded.
..
the poet without a home
"Poeta nascitur, non fit."
Comments