Torn Note
From that moment you put the delicate frail veil, wear your wedding dress... Your story begins..As woman is giving your soul to your man that is not just a husband ... Your prince and the fair tale of being princess ... The reality bring back that fair tales will always remain fair tales....
I'm not so different, I lived that fair tale, why not I belong to the race who craved to live the romance .... Just like the story tale, to live the romantic castle and happy ever after. Yet the reality, the scenario of your life is not like that as we all know the script is not written by you.
I'm not sure what it means to be divorced, is not just being alone or is it about touching the surface of death and you keep wanting to wake up from the death. It's about dying thousand times and wanting to remain under recage. For is no way your soul to find peace, just like zombie that has lost its soul. No matter how much you talk about it, nothing makes sense of it as you yourself do not understand. Wanting more recage to fall on you cause the weight of pain is not jus crushing you. It is watching yourself dying and you wish it, cause death is kinder than to bear pain
Just like every woman, I felt the pinch of divorce. That castle in reality is just sand castle. It was ruined by us.... I wish if there were a place I could disappear, so earth would not witness my failure... Yet, all these words some not reaching for the agony seems to be more deeper that these accumulation of words..
~ Torn Note ~
As sun set slowly crawls
I somehow feel the unrest
Birds voices in a insisting plea
Can't it be dreading the fall of night
Just like me
Dreading the days
As closer it approach
For his arrival home
Heartbeat seem to be exploding
In an unrest feeling
For I have learned the script
After a day or two
Separation lust is over
Once again we tune
To the same old channel
The uneasiness and fights
Still resolute to patch the wounds
As a Woman... turning a wreckage to a solid home
A task done in click
But there I was a wrecked woman
With a mission to mend a torn page
Then reality strikes
That both are canceled note, torn in two
What remains just to be burned
Copyright 2012 NasraAl Adawi
I'm not so different, I lived that fair tale, why not I belong to the race who craved to live the romance .... Just like the story tale, to live the romantic castle and happy ever after. Yet the reality, the scenario of your life is not like that as we all know the script is not written by you.
I'm not sure what it means to be divorced, is not just being alone or is it about touching the surface of death and you keep wanting to wake up from the death. It's about dying thousand times and wanting to remain under recage. For is no way your soul to find peace, just like zombie that has lost its soul. No matter how much you talk about it, nothing makes sense of it as you yourself do not understand. Wanting more recage to fall on you cause the weight of pain is not jus crushing you. It is watching yourself dying and you wish it, cause death is kinder than to bear pain
Just like every woman, I felt the pinch of divorce. That castle in reality is just sand castle. It was ruined by us.... I wish if there were a place I could disappear, so earth would not witness my failure... Yet, all these words some not reaching for the agony seems to be more deeper that these accumulation of words..
~ Torn Note ~
As sun set slowly crawls
I somehow feel the unrest
Birds voices in a insisting plea
Can't it be dreading the fall of night
Just like me
Dreading the days
As closer it approach
For his arrival home
Heartbeat seem to be exploding
In an unrest feeling
For I have learned the script
After a day or two
Separation lust is over
Once again we tune
To the same old channel
The uneasiness and fights
Still resolute to patch the wounds
As a Woman... turning a wreckage to a solid home
A task done in click
But there I was a wrecked woman
With a mission to mend a torn page
Then reality strikes
That both are canceled note, torn in two
What remains just to be burned
Copyright 2012 NasraAl Adawi
posted by iamnasra at 4:06 PM
1 Comments:
Sad words. For love we give up alot of our selves. But maybe sometimes we are asked to give up too much?
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