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Language:
English
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Published:
2022-11-12
Updated:
2022-12-05
Words:
1,009
Chapters:
4/?
Kudos:
4
Hits:
44

Not Another Poetry Book: Poetry Book

Summary:

Welcome one, welcome all, to my land of unnecessarily arbitrary poems that have been meticulously chosen off the sizeable shelf of my many other creations that will possibly, maybe, come to light in the future.

We’ve all been at that stage in life where we just feel the need to cram all our unwanted emotions into one, equal quantity — a large one, at that. And that is where I, the very experienced poet, come in.

This book includes all the poems that I’ve written over the past few weeks — I’ve only started expressing my feelings in the form of writing recently — and ones I will, most likely, write in the undoubtably interesting future.

Going off of a whim, I do so hope you enjoy this, somewhat. You are genuinely welcomed by me to leave suggestions in the comment section below my pieces of art if you are so desperately wanting to be noticed by a complete stranger; we don’t judge in these pages.

Therefore, I bid you farewell, fellow poet. I wish with all my heart to see you soon.

Notes:

Part one of this series is sure to catch your attention, reader, for it is about a prince who ever seeks for a desperate glimpse of closure. Back in his day he didn’t wish for modern technology such as cellphones and large, rectangular climaxes; no. He wishes to ultimately reunite with his mother again.

Chapter 1: What is It Like to See You Again?

Chapter Text

What is it like?

Is it as exhilarating as they say it is; to chase after your purpose? Would I be able to visualise something so personally enchanted, something so blantendly transparent, that so many would strive through land and sea to find it?

They say you can feel it in your chest: that gut-wrenching desire. The twisting, the turning, the moulding, the shaping. No-one could ever confide in Fate to tell them what their worth would become, what She’d think fit — a high that both intoxicates many in it’s unsolved mystery and entices others with it’s unbeknownst outcome.

But why haven’t I experienced this longing pleasure, this solution to fix my subconsciously beating heart? Did Fate decide that it was not of beneficial value? That it’s significance is so painfully truncated that She did not choose to bless it with Her decisiveness?

This question haunts me, mother. Throughout my state of oblivion, I see no changes, no protests; is it unusual for me to feel offended indirectly? What have I done to deserve such a derived future? What have I done to deserve such a challenging desire?

It is clear how delusional these abnormal thoughts have made me. I’ve been told by my people that it is not uncommon for me to drift off into another world, like a wilted rose parched with water. My trained, calloused fingertips have struggled to hold up a simple, singular arrow — they never used to shake like they seem to be.

Where have you gone? Why haven’t you come back? Not a day has gone by where I haven’t seen father gaze yearningly out his bedroom window, looking for something to ease his hidden yet everlasting ache; looking for you.

I need a reason to keep my will, a distraction turned attraction to keep this crown atop my untouched reputation — or my head, they do not seem to differ in my conscience. 

You were my purpose, mother. I would assume that would be the reason for why Fate seems so hesitant to change my course. I could beg on my knees for Her to give life back to my soul, yet Her choice would not waver; not one bit.


You are still alive. 

 

Where, I don’t know. 

 

But I know you are.

 

And if my future lies within your ashes, I shall spread them with my own hands.