A Poem by PoeT4994

Started writing this because of a Gorillaz lyric "Cities breaking down on a camels back." Wanted to tell the story of two people who are in destruction, and just want something better, love.

There's this place, called the sands of time.
The trees look like horror movies.
The walls are collages of historical tragedies.
Replaying themselves.
There are mothers hanging their children so they don't have to see what they saw.
Every once in a while it gets turned upside down to shift the momentum from bad to worse.
In this place, everyone is waiting to die.
We all are living inside these walls.
Waiting to die.
You can hear God, laughing at the rejection that has been birthed.
In these fallen cities, rubbled into cold, gray sand, there is a man walking with his arms high.
Wrists dwindling in surrender.
Feet bleeding.
Clothes made from burning newspapers.
Hair, white like dreamt of Christmases.
He is crying.
He's been crying, for far too long.
He's trying to find answers in bibles tucked somewhere in the fine prints of his clothing.
Trying to find God.
Someone, to save him.
His soul breaking like third world countries.
But he is in a fourth world desperation.
He's looking for a way out.
And there is a woman, on the outside looking in.
She just wants to break the hourglass open and sleep inside because she's done with this life and just wants to die.
She lives out of her violent ex's apartment, with walls that feel a little something like sand and falling buildings.
Her hair is torn out, her skin, is stuck somewhere between used to it and just soft enough for the abuse to still hurt.
She holds her arms out, wrists at attention screaming to the world through broken sign language because she's been hurt to many times.
She's trying to find the same bibles as the man, that can only be found in these rotting vases.
Somewhere where souls are melting like candles, she knows there is a way to leave everything behind.
She's just searching.
For the man, who is searching for answers.
She hopes she is the meaning for his falling.
She hopes she can lift his wrists for another go.
He is looking for the girl, that he hopes will be standing there, with scriptures tattooed on her lips.
Bleeding, but legible none the less.
They both, just want a change of pace.
A new life.
A fresh start, far away from home.
But when they come to, they are staring in the mirror back at themselves.
They found they've been shaping the empty pill bottles into hour glasses.
Because they were told time heals all wounds.
The hour glasses, are just new ways for people to look at their broken homes.
And rotting lives.
So they fix them to their eyes like glasses.
To see clearer.
Waiting for the day that the fog fades.
They end up back in their bedroom, looking at each other.
They may not know it, but they have already found the true testaments.
We call this love.
And no matter how weak they get, they have each other to look forward to.
They fill their afternoons by throwing vases with cremation ashes in them at sewers.
Hoping to dispose of the excess pain.
Hoping that the sand will fade away.
There's this place, called the sands of time.
Where people break.
And strive for death.
Hopefully we'll all come to one day, and stop trying to stare at the world through these hour glasses.
And realize, that the one thing we ever needed to be happy, love, is right next to us.

© 2010 PoeT4994

My Review

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You know, for someone so young, you have a lot of promise:) I mean that in a genuinely, impressed way!
Your poetry is astoundingly mature and really well executed!

Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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Added on June 28, 2010
Last Updated on June 28, 2010
Tags: Hourglasses, man, women, him, her, love, sands, of, time, find, hope, destruction, poem, poet, poetry, Christian.