The Comment That Fucked My Sleep

Winged Fantasy has left a new comment on your post " TAKE MY HAND":

Do me a favour if you can.

Just once... for once... forget all the harshness in the world, within u, within the person in front of u. And for once, forget all the hunger for power, forget the practicality, forget everything, all the negativity. I know negativity can be subjective. But u know what I mean. And write a poem. Do this for me please. :D

(PS: I am not saying there is harshness within u. U might be the most sweetest person around. I am not gonna make any assumptions about u. I dont know u. I am just talking about ur writing.)

AND this is what I have to say...

I read this comment last night on my cell's newly activated GPRS system. It got me thinking, and thinking as we all know is a dangerous activity. It took a great deal of effort to sleep musing on what WF said. So I thought, hey why not!

I'm gonna give this a shot, to try writing without all the things she said. So dear readers, Behold! I give you!

The Forgotten Poem

Behind the door of pain
And the mask of harsh reality
Past the river of hunger for power
Across the ocean of negativity

Let's forget the madness for a while
and not plot the sweet course of revenge
Put aside the amber colored hate
And indifference to all things dead and living

So I question myself
What is left now?
Truth?
Love?
Honesty?
Sanity?
Goodness?
Beauty?
Like a sober expanse of white storm-less sky
A glow inside, a zen calm
No pain, no hate, just a suffusion of yellow
Like an aching tooth
An irritation at the back of my neck

All is calm now and I can't think
To stir my thoughts, should I drink?
I can stir no images of rainbowed paranoia
The voices are now silent, but I see them grin

There is no disturbance to juggle words on the screen
A steady static buzz on the television of my mind
The radio in my head is picking up no alien channels
There is nothing to shake and rattle my soul

This is worse than purgatory
or
Limbo.

So, if I have to arrive at a conclusion
I'd say a poem needs a big does of confusion
An earthquake of thoughts from me to you
A soul scream to get my idea through
A medley of colours the shades of black
The opening my mind
And letting voices attack
There has to be a hunger to get the words right
The need to write and write when I can not sleep at night

Why write about salvation when all I see is pain
Humans have fucked this planet, again and again
This is what I see and this is what I'll write
There might be something wrong with me
But I guess it's all right.
It really is.