Bolivar and San Martin: Guayaquil, Ecuador

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Secuestered in Thought

It's this all encompassing uncertainty,
Drowning in tears I wish were not my own,
and I cannot call it anything but pain

You slip in through the doorway
As my thoughts fly out the window,
Rumbling like thunder
With all the words unsaid.

I hold truth under the surface of a sea of desire,
Suffocating reality which would otherwise slay my dreams.

But truth thrives in water, and changes,
And returns to me in the form of tears.
These droplets of reality are what greet your every coming,
With a stream of intertwining sorrow and joy.