The boulder

It has been years since I wrote this, but it still stands so fresh and so true. The mixed emotion of love and fear still dwells in me and I know not if I can claim anything has changed since.

There rests a boulder, pious and divine,

On the top of a hillock, my house aside,

That stares at the sky – a diamond shine,

Engraved on a ring, so the hillock to be.

I oft be lost, know nay what to detect,

Significant so high, I can’t describe,

Numbers fall short to count its worth,

To me and my love and the beats to beat.

I wander in thoughts when the wind is calm,

And dream of my apt love come true.

My ‘she’ do I praise, unfading charm of ever,

With her I be blessed, troubled never.

I dream of then when we two together,

The day in memo, me and ‘my’ on the rock,

Will sing and cheer and kiss and smile.

If my love turned so, I’ll be drowned in joy.

But to me terror times, I dream the worst,

Sweet dreams hampered and heart pierced.

True do I speak to the purity the most,

Will cast my self from the height unknown,

To end my dreams and the pricking breath,

With agony of pain and tragedy in love.

Then will the future write an epitaph on me,

And the boulder decides, life or else for me.

Uncertain yet, me and my love spellbound,

Life is in speed and in search of life,

But still rests a boulder, pious and divine,

On the top of a hillock, my house aside.

(I don’t exactly know when I wrote this. But I am not really satistfied by the way this was formed. It does not quite reflect what it should have. But then, this is the best way I could put it then. It must have been somewhere around the end of the last millenium.)