Nothing I say means one bit to this world,
Or anything on it which dwells.
For eyes which can see,
May not read what doth be,
In the ink-work that on paper quells.
Words may have form and a structure to glean,
But what of the hand which was moved?
To flow and work out,
Scripting as monks devout,
In pursuit of a burdens’ remove?
Yea, O’ to you, who care not what and who,
Has drawn out blood in a known spread,
To show the soul pain,
A person’s heart and brain,
And close your eyes whisp’ring…
“Tears aren’t shed”.
K. Aldaya, 10/14/05
Picture: “Hush” by Nelleke on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Hush-422553246