Come Into my World

Come into my world
And you’ll find me
Chasing my demons
Fighting my shadows,
You’ll see the soul
That is just a memory
Of what it used to be.

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You’ll see the eyes
That lie like no other
Of a truth that shivers
With past reverberations,
You’ll see a heart
Martyred a long time ago
For reasons that never were
For those that didn’t exist.

You’ll see a strength,
A voice echoing like silence
From tired bones, open wounds
Through a mercury so dense.
You’ll find dreams disguised
As words of wisdom
In prose, poetry and prayer,
As a flock of uncaged birds
Set free over a city of ruins.

You’ll see conviction
From caverns too dark,
To lights that run in tandem
Through me and my faith,
Engulfed in a white smoke
Glaring too stark.

You’ll see sore spots
Of faces that were,
Of business unfinished,
Of bitter bygones,
And bridges that burnt.

You’ll see nonchalance
In smiles, and shrugs
And veils of sheer duress,
A classic act onstage
Of living in an endless maze.

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You’ll see arrogance
Crouching in a hidden cave,
In a darkness of disdain
Aftermaths of time at stake,
Only to surface again
And protect my fortress
From prying eyes
And crocodiles in wake.

You’ll see a blind faith
That came uninvited,
Barging right through;
The squatter in my home
Accounting for what I’m due.

You’ll see joy
That wages wars to stay
Unscathed and awake,
While creatures of the night
Come out to play.

You’ll see hope and despair
Partners in crime,
Slaves of the division bell,
Holding on for dear life
At the cliff edge of time.

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And finally, you’ll see love
Not as a comeback,
Not as a setback,
But as a reason, as a will,
To take into embrace
All that’s out of whack.
To take with me in every breath
To my Neverland,
Where losing myself
And finding myself
Are one and the same –
Like life and death
In a last dance by the embers
Of an eternal flame.

A moonshine not so radiant,
A duststorm not too faraway,
A sea of corals without colour,
A dawn without its day,
A barter of blood for the sun –
This is me, dusted and done.

So, now you see a mask,
A cloud, a wall, a smoke
A lie, a farce, a fleece
You see it all,

But you can never really tell
If it was me or someone
You saw passing you by,
Nothing but a stranger,
Nothing but a memory,
Nothing but a vaccum,
Nothing but a story.

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Most everything you think you know about me is nothing more than memories.

Haruki Murakami, A Wild Sheep Chase

PS: I recently fished out an old diary that has some poems and thoughts from a younger, more inspired me. I hope to share some here — this is the first. Not exactly the merriest, but something to remind me that life is beautiful now. Something to also remind me that this was always my calling.

Until next time,
XOXO

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