Touching your skin with cold fingers,
the sweetest sorrow of all,
pouring itself into every fibre of our being,
and wasting away the fine border that separates the you from the me,
the worst emotions from the best ones,
the hardest memories from the brightest ones,
the bitter moments from the joyful ones.
There is so much life here,
so much future in every cell and move,
so much love, it could not be contained.
My fingers’ trace is followed by my tears,
for love’s constant yearning which cannot ever be satisfied,
for lovers lost in hardship,
for death in all it’s disguises.
Your skin grows colder and colder under my hand now,
and outside the dawn is breaking…
yseult Philosophy and Pop Culture, Poetry photos, Poetry
We’ve walked through the fire and the ice it created.
How many hearts have we broken in the process,
how many liars called by their names?
How many treasons shifted into promises,
and how many voices silenced?
‘Failure is not an option’
How much have we torn ourselves apart,
blown ourselves into oblivion
and rose back from the rubble,
only to start all over again?
When there are no solutions, no options,
no sunlight to reach down into the desolated plains
of misery and desperation,
when there was nobody offering even the smallest
money of their trust for us to buy our laughs,
when there was nothing left…
… there always was more…
you… me… something to say, something to cry about,
something to share, something to care and the only
thing we lost were our enemies.
And while we did wander the stretches of our imagination,
alone, and the beaches of heartache loved turned once more over,
changing their names and appearances through constant waves,
someone amongst us smiled and not you nor me could see it or even feel it.
They say that the night is darkest in the minutes just before the dawn.
yseult Poetry photos, Poetry
If I could have dreamt of gold and clarity,
that one moment where the fever stops
and your peace sets in.
If I could dream your ways
and wish to live through them,
through You,
trough us and nothing else.
If I could choose to have nothing but you
in every move, every tear and every wish
If I could aim for your glory and your light,
could lay it all down,
what I would be,
what I could be,
what I’ll never be
and
what I’ll never see
If I could wish for just one dream,
one aim and goal,
that dream would be of you.
yseult Poetry photos, Poetry
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