The Gift

In the memories of a past yet remembered, I still see the faces of people I once cared for. Somehow, we lost contact over the years of schooling, discovering, and working. I still hoped to meet after the lapsed time. How could I forget someone I once felt friendship towards.

His face still accompanies me in the pictures I lock in the box of memories. And from time to time, I unlock it, and as I surf the pictures and the letters, I cry in nostalgic sorrow for times when my own emotions, though complex and adult-like, made all the sense in the world. There were no shades of doubt. Nothing but absolute, delicious and sweet certainty!

I loved those days. And I love them still. They created the goal I work for, and the hope that revives my heart whenever doubt attacks it. I lived and died a thousand times. Yet I never dared to ignore those sparks of hope lighting up the fire inside me to love.

I thank Him for creating them. For making them, oh, so clear, beautiful and radiant with the energy of life! In those moments of weakness, and days of darkness, He sent them to me as gifts and blessings... To remind me that the world still turns. And the days of darkness will surely be lighted again. That the drought will be demolished with rain of love that last forever! 

© A Furious Child

A Work in Progress

        When she came about, all that was there was darkness. For a period of time she was unable to count, she remained, surrounded by nothing but the dark. There were restrictions that stopped her movement. Some kind of leashes that wrapped her. She lingered in darkness. She wondered about the reasons of her existence, the purpose of her presence in such a place, and the place in which she was. It suffocated her to breathe! She was weak, too weak, incapable of doing anything to find the answers to her questions.
        After a while, she started hearing some faint sounds. One was constantly there. It became very familiar... too familiar she could recognize it even if she heard a thousand sound. She started to like it! That sound, compared to others, was strangely soothing. Sometimes she sensed its happiness, and other times, she felt its sadness piercing her, filling her with its pain. She did not comprehend how she could sense its emotions. Nor how she was so stirred by what it felt to the extent that it moved some of her parts. Restrictions or not, she rebelled against them, tried to get out of her captivity.
        Even though she attempted to free herself, she was only faced with a wall! She kicked, she punched, she tugged and pulled, yet nothing happened. Despite her continuous attempts, and her continuous failures, time lapsed longer. Her core was cuffed.
        She saw it, at last! Something so different from the dark, coming from a hole in that wall. It hurt, yet filled her with shapeless sensations...


                                                               ... To be continued...

© A Furious Child

The hurt of a lonesome child
carried away still with memories
of darkness and a hazy forest
reaching starless skies
guided by a heart
filled with fury piles.

Hope with dream eloped
to those skies
where no ships slept
and rage tries
to steal treasures kept
and for milleniums lies.

© A Furious Child