Monday 3 June 2024

Melancholic

 


Did you ever felt

A melancholic so deep

That it clings to your soul?

And no matter how much 

You smile and dance

You simply cannot let it go?

But how can one miss 

What he never had?

And all my life

Missing the past

Made me turn my eyes 

To what's in front of me.

And all my life

I've been blind 

Although I can see.

How can one miss home 

If it's empty and alone?

And all my life

I craved the sun

When I feel nothing but rain.

And then I get so old

And everything seems the same.

I craved a port

Even when I feel like walking

And never stop.

So many dreams 

Turned me to stone

And all I wished was the flames

To burn me away forevermore.


C.M.V.R (MySoulToTake)

Art by C.M.V.R (MySoulToTake)






Monday 26 February 2024

The Boy With No Mother

 


How should I begin? 

Shall I tell you a story, like no other? 

What do you think? 

It begins. 

Like all stories do. 

A boy with no mother. 

Impossible, say you?

Quite so... 

Quite so, and it was a snowy day… 

One by one, teardrops fell out of the sky. 

Drop by drop, but the child, 

Well, the child didn’t cry. 

Impossible, you dare to speak? 

Quite so… Quite so… 

It was, although, long ago, 

Far too many years. 

I’m sorry… 

Where was I? 

Do you want me to tell you a story…? 

A boy who didn’t cry…

Time passed, back then, so slow… 

Nobody knows how, 

But against all odds, the boy grew old. 

Feeding off whatever he could find; 

Snow, berries, and sometimes, 

Sometimes, mice. 

The boy walked, 

Barefoot on the grass, but the cold, 

Horrible cold, made it feel like glass. 

The world looked different back then, 

Building after building, overtaken by nature, 

Or the folly of men. 

The streets, once filled with laughter and joy, 

Were now silent, 

And silent was also the boy. 

He searched, 

High and low, 

For a companion or just another soul. 

The more he searched 

The heavier his heart went. 

The boy couldn't understand why. 

He was born without a mother, 

Or did you forget? 

He searched, 

With hunger as his only friend… 

Oh, he did eat, Now and again… 

But mice were becoming smarter 

And he started to find their taste quite bland. 

But what is this? 

Light and smoke up ahead. 

Maybe there is still someone left. 

One can only hope, 

In the end. 

By the fire, 

A family of four. 

The woman said. 

As he approached; 

“Come. Come, plenty of soup left.” 

And he ate until he couldn't stand. 

They all went to sleep, 

Bellies full. 

And the boy waited, 

And the hunger came upon him 

Like a thief in the night. 

He chopped and diced the family 

Because he didn't know wrong from right. 

A story like no other, 

As promised. 

The little boy wept while getting ready to go; 

Because in the end 

There's no escape from the curse of the Wendigo.


Text by C.M.V.R (MySoulToTake) Art by Dall-E