"Rushing things slowards"

I was laying below in silence,
atrocities struck harshly,
but only above
among the one’s pretending to feel true love.

And a rainbow rose in me,
one that I could carry
from one hand to the other,
reach out with it and I might touch your eyes.

Weaving patterns for other puzzling minds to read
in bursts of feelings that I had felt to.
I was my own and still there was a way,
a route from my heart to your mind,
without leaving me empty I could share.

In fear of being convicted by loneliness
and accusations of egoism
I shared all over,
weaving patterns out to everyone,
carrying my soul through to for people I didn’t even know.

Inside I was still one
but slowly silence began to come
rush things too fast
into an island in the sun,
where I was to crash upon
and so I did,
without sense of self-pity,
there I sang but my voice couldn’t sing along.

TheDruid 26/07/2002