Da Capo al Poetry

Volition

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The cunning creature sets its web,
Eagerly waiting for the ebb.
The trap is set—midge after midge,
The spider savours evey flinch.

Naive, in awe, they don’t resist,
Life and mirage don’t coexist,
The web shines brightly, silky, soft,
An endless grave for their last waft.

And some can feel it’s all a lie,
And yet the pain they deify.
They crave it, as they want to know
What it feels like to touch such glow.

They give their lives, not thinking twice,
For it’s a blissful sacrifice.
The web of lies embraces life,
Becoming heavy, sweet and rife.

– Patricia

Silhouette

Droplets of rain fall on the ground,
The Earth keeps going round and round
And here I stand in silence.

They coldly hug, caress my skin,
Yet here I stay—spin after spin,
In still and mute defiance.

I’ll never leave. Here I belong,
Eternal bliss and my own song,
I’ve come across salvation.

A pulse of light spreads on the sky,
The thunder’s my sweet lullaby;
No more dream deprivation.

And tiny rocks pierce through my soles,
I feel alive, a lurid rose;
Quivering and renascent.

– Patricia

Struggle

So many stories I could tell,
But nothing comes—I’m empty.
No words to use, none to retell,
None that could come in handy.

I want to write, to give myself—
My sacrifice is useless.
And I fear this, I fear my death
I don’t want to be breathless.

I wait for them, they do not come…
The hour is so late now.
I’m scared of what I might become…
I ask: “Will my fate change now?”

The clock is ticking, time flies by,
The silence thus affects me,
And on myself I can’t rely,
As poetry reflects me.

So many stories I could tell,
My pen is simply waiting.
And there is one thing I do well,
And that is—write about this.

I have a story of my own,
I’ll write about redemption:
Inside myself, the sparks are born—
I am my own salvation.

I may be empty, but I’m me,
Creation is within me.
I search for it and set it free,
The words once more embrace me.

– Patricia

Colourful Mess

Colourful mess

I’m not all white, I’m not all black
And there are many things I lack.
I’m not all good, I’m not all bad—
So many faces I have had.

There’s red in me, there’s also blue
And what I’ve done, I can’t undo.
There’s orange, yellow, also grey,
There’s fear, cruel sadness and dismay.

There’s something green and something brown,
Sometimes I smile, sometimes I frown.
At times, there’s purple, then there’s pink,
Now I am great and then I shrink.

So many colours, all within,
Now I’m a nightmare, then—a dream.
I’m not all white, I’m not all good,
Truth only now I’ve understood…

I’m all of it, shallow and deep,
I hardly cry, I quickly weep,
I show myself and then I hide;
All colours, thus, in me reside.

I’ve got the words and all is well,
Then they’re no more—we bid farewell;
So what am I? A shaken jar
And all the colours mix as one.

– Patricia

Trapped

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The graceful bird lands on the lake,
The fear now keeping it awake.
Despite the dark, it cannot sleep,
All it can do is float and weep.

Its broken wing’s the source of pain,
And all its efforts are in vain.
It cannot fly, its fate’s no more,
As long as it can’t reach the shore.

But hungry wolves surround the lake,
A bite of it wishing to take.
Only by air will it be free…
Oh, bitter, cruel irony!

Only the water’s its escape,
But just until it’s far too late.
Death lingers on its broken soul,
Waiting to give the final blow.

Defeated, pained, forever so,
The swan has nowhere else to go.
And when it’s time, its final cry’s
A broken, haunting lullaby.

– Patricia

My Past is Here

Time and again, the shade returns,
Setting its darkness on my soul;
And I’ve got scars and also burns;
Again I ask: “Is this my fault?”

“Why this? Why now? Why me of all?”
I ask and ask to no avail.
“What did I do?”—I can’t recall,
When I look back, I see no trail.

I never hurt them—so why me?
Their words, their actions hurt so much…
Again I ask: “How could this be?”
Is there nobody I can trust?

And one step forward, two steps back,
The nightmare begins its embrace,
It pulls me closer, holds me tight
Until I only see its face.

It’s part of me, forever still,
Always within, claiming my peace.
Never to leave, once it is here
And there’s no sweet, calming release.

– Patricia

Maybe the future’s not so dark,
Maybe you only need a spark
To fully bloom, to show yourself—
And all the obstacles will melt
Under your fiery gaze which burns,
Fueled by the passion which returns
To give you life, meaning and faith,
Without you trying to escape.

Maybe, as long as you believe,
You’ll find enough reasons to live,
You’ll know yourself, all head and heart
And you’ll no longer disregard
What makes you, you—flesh, soul and mind;
Maybe you only have to hit rewind!
You’ll be yourself—this time, you’ll know
From where you’ve come and where you’ll go.

– Patricia

A Masterpiece

A masterpiece
It’s all within, don’t try to hide
The strength, the spirit that reside
Inside yourself—it’s all in there,
Forget depression, fear, despair.
Your soul’s unique, it’s so much more
Than what you see it as, for sure!

You’ve got your scars, but you’ve survived.
You’ve been forgotten and despised,
Yet here you are—you’re here to stay,
A silhouette made out of clay,
With diamond eyes, with beating heart—
My dear, you’re a work of art!

– Patricia

No superhero. Be your own hero

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Another day comes to an end,
There’s no more time, don’t just pretend.
You’re not all well, so do not wait
For someone else to walk in late.
What superhero do you need?
You’ll end up bleeding hard, indeed.

So just stand tall and trust yourself,
Forget the tears with which you’ve dealt.
Look at yourself: you’re strong enough!
It’s time you finished that rough draft.
You’re beautiful, you’re true, you’re you,
A superhero will not do.

You’ve got yourself, you will survive,
The little girl within will thrive.
You’re here to stay and you will fight,
And you’ll do it with such delight!
A hero who has known defeat,
Yet here you are—still on your feet.

– Patricia

It Takes Courage

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When all there’s left is only doubt,
When in your heart there’s only drought,
When you have nothing else to give
And still warm love you don’t receive,
When you’re alone and no one else
Tears down your wall of self-defense,
Remember—you are not alone:
You’ve got yourself—so carry on!

But it takes courage to begin,
To climb back up, to take a spin,
And it takes courage to go on,
And to have faith, and to move on.
But if you’re brave, you will succeed.
Despite the tears, always believe,
As it takes courage to reveal
What was inside and how you’ve healed.

– Patricia