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Syndel's Spire
Syndel's Spire

Introduction
My texts (78)
My series (10)

PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel

Halfquake:
Mania

Level:
74

Total kills:
19,843,348

Birthday:
00th 0000

Infantile

Mood:silent
Type:Poem
Added:March 12th 2009, 13:53:45
Visits:975
Rating:5/5 (Votes: 1)

Description:
-Infantile-

Infantile

I The Child.

Nine months gestated,
Thrown from the mother,
Into a world,
Like no other.

Five steps you took that day,
She claps and steps away,
And you are forced to run,
But she is done.

When are you going to grow up?
The question rings in your ears.
Hatred wells up inside of you,
Discordant to their fears.

I speak, I walk, I talk, I think,
But I am not everything,
I talk to the world and it talks back,
Meaning derived from nothing.

I know now what I missed then,
Would I do it again?
I suppose I would.

II The Artist

You and I are not the same,
Nor are we completely different.
We exist to play that same old game
Of life and hope for fulfilment.

We spiral down, and shout back up,
Recall what we have seen,
From the depths of our soul, our own life's cup,
And invite others to be where we've been.

We live our lives as abstracted being,
Always lost, for thought of seeing
That which we could be one day,
Instead we focus on today.

The waters are murky, the past a blur,
We live life in the present, the past does but slur
Out phrases of pain, sorrow and the tormented,
And those moments of peace, happiness and the contented.

We think we grow, and perhaps we do,
But no, we are the same.
We adapt.

III The Lover

I saw you smile,
I walked you by,
You stopped me at the stile.
I thought you lost,
“For why else accost-”
But nay this must be guile?

Our love was sweet,
She guided my feet,
We never once did falter,
I took her hand,
I bid her stand,
And took her too the altar.

We found our way,
'twixt the hay,
I will not give you detail,
But she was I,
And I became she,
Until the gift came, fetal.

Reality returned,
I howled and yearned,
For time so long passed before,
I scrawled, I bawled,
I moaned and called,
For youth to return to me once more.

But she I did love, and so to the son,
We found a way to stay.
Life we did live, and love we did give.
And the spark of life did not turn gray.

IV Eldest

In a way we all were infantile,
Each step we took we believed a mile,
Our future loomed, we laugh and play,
Until one day the dark cease bay,
And took our mind, our hope and dream,
Shattered them in fog of heat and steam.

Our love, our hope and aspiration
Came soon replaced by perspiration.
We toiled to feed our families, new,
To stop them fidget, on the pew.
We found our peers judgemental cowards,
Each criticising our parental powers.

Each time we believed ourselves to have peaked,
Greater challenges we found, our bones, they creaked,
Our lives did grow dimmer, we wonder “how long?”
As our children did party, singing their own song.
But ours is morose, we lost heart before,
Of fame, of fortune, of life evermore.

Each moment we believed ourselves old and wise,
We really did know it to be a silly disguise,
For never was I wise, and never was I smart,
Perhaps they are justified, I really am an old fart.
But there are moments in life where you find yourself thinking.
I am who I am, I won't find myself sinking,

For each year I have grown,
In one way or more,
The critics I've shown,
I'm more than before.

V Dead

It calls to me now, the coldness of the grave.
I'd like to stay with you, but to fate I am a slave.
Do not cry when I go,
Believe I love you so.

I feel it growing darker, I probably don't have long,
I'll tell the angels when I'm passing, they'll want to know our song.
Do not cry when I go,
You know I love you so.

Perhaps there is nothing after, perhaps these moments are all that remain,
I did not do all I wanted, but life is but a one-way train.
Do not cry when I go,
You know I'll miss you so.

Perhaps I am a damned man, I know I did not good,
I sold my soul a thousand times, for life to be as it should.
Do not cry when I go,
I'll cry for you, I know.

This is the end, I know it to be,
O infantile the life we led
O infantile the thoughts we said
O infantile the curse we made
O infantile the egg we laid
O infantile am I right now,
For darkness is all I see.

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Total Personal Pages: 220 - Total series: 116 - Total texts: 882
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