Can Be

[Guest Aledrain]

Can Be

 

Can it be that she is strong?

Can it be that she has found her way to hold on?

Can it be that she can up when the world folds her slowly down, drying her tears with a cloth made of preserverance?

Or can it be, that she is blind?

Building up slowly, a temple in her mind?

Disowning all the evil that prepares to invade,

shedding layers of her mind that has turned grey?

Or can it be she has found her place, a place that she can tell all, let it lay bare, center spot in a court of judges?

Can it be they have finally wounded her rough skin,

Cracked her dam, the salt water coming to burn the fresh wounds,

Unleashing depression upon her shining joy,

Fogging and demoralizing smoke rising to warp her mind in a cloud of pure purple haze,

burning her heart and mind,

Can it be that her temple was never holy or sound,

nothing more than a shack of broken twigs,

that her mind was never as well guarded as she thought,

a homemade aluminum amour?

That is why it is not what it can be, but what it is;

A hollow figure, trying to understand the Civil war within her, the World War around her, and the desolate ruins about her;

 

Myself

[EG Tommy]

I like it.