Alaska

R.I.P. Alaska Young

I feel alone, as if in silence
I can be heard, as if in darkness
I can be seen.
Lonely, as if in solitude
I can be found.
To be found, carried away
To be loved and warmed and surrounded by
Faith.....
In what? In what has faith
in me. In what I have faith in.
Alaska had faith in me, as the
Labyrinth opened , the last handwritten words
On a waterlogged page.....
"Straight and Fast..."
Straight on till morning, faster and faster until
BOOM.....neverland.
Where was she going and what did she see?
Paradise or Void?
Salvation, Damnation, or nothingness?
White daisies scribbled under a payphone at 3 a.m.,
White tulips on her mothers grave,
In her backseat,
Little rivers of crimson dropping worlds of carmine onto petals stark and pure.
Who was she really?
Secrets and questions buried deeper than Strawberry Hill in some forgotten field.
We may never know.
But as both light and dark, black and white, good and evil balance, so do all things.
We may never know, but I know this.

She taught me love.
She taught me loyalty.
She taught me beauty
And mischief and fear.

And she touched me.

Rest in peace, Alaska Young.
You beat the labyrinth, and you remind us
Of a dead mans dying phrase.

"Do not worry, we are all going."

Rest In Peace, Alaska Young.

Reviews

[Rachel DeHart]

This one is also really good Scott. I love these lines
"White daisies scribbled under a payphone at 3 a.m.,
White tulips on her mothers grave,
In her backseat,
Little rivers of crimson dropping worlds of carmine onto petals stark and pure.
Who was she really?"