Where are the voices of the free?
This silence is deafening,
Quick in their slumber for better days,
The joyous seem decayed.
Forgotten hopes now, with ebbing loss,
The freedoms of the voices beginning to frost.
People sing their tune, but what of Tomorrowland?
Will we be able to take one another’s hands?
Perhaps the secret is all that we have,
A muttered love,
Now broken into the bitter silence of our departure.
Into the neverlands you had once said.
My lips utter pained curses, as you walk away from the truth,
As you never accept our fate.
Lay in your lies, while I dance in verity,
I am in love with you.
We are free, no more fabrications
No more false stories to be told.
Accept identity while our love unfolds.
Like the forbidden flowers of winter,
Allow the frost to caress us and bite.
May the blooms depart to the promising winds of the future,
As I lay here in the gardens of dreams,
Still humming our tune, of the Tomorrowlands.
About the Creator
A. Raphael
Poetry is my first love, and writing words onto paper is my therapy. Maybe my submissions will make you feel something, too.
If you find something in my words, then it is my pleasure.
A. Raph
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