An unbeknowest poem

The seas are spilt apart by the sun,
The clouds make no shape and neither do stars,
The distinct rumble and echo of a tear dropping down the river,
Echoing its glimmer of shining hope.

You can hear the soft cooing wind blowing,
Mouthing words and whispering secrets
The trees smiling at the rumors, settling their age-old roots
Waiting.

It's the verge and the between of being night,
And the sun frowns at it's quick exit,
leaving behind sheddings and shadows of sparkling light

The moon arrives, cocky, for once not having to miss mother nature's awakening groan
Settling into the sky, haughtily staring at others
The moon does, after all, have the best sit.

The river shivers from the tears of the sky,
Which seem endlessly mocking.
They contiune to tap and poke,
Slowly infuriating the river.

The tears of rain don't notice, though,
and contiune their moaning of life
They contiune to torment the rest of nature with stories
Of misery
Of how it's like to be disposed.

The mud-filled ground shrieks,
and lets a moan of earthquakes pass through.

Nature is quiet, awaiting.

The ground contiunes to moan,
Sliently screaming and releasing it's quiet birth,
Letting seeds and flowers flourish
And become the fetuses of nature.

The clouds smile from above,
And the grass smirks from under.

The pad of a footstep is heard,
and nature goes quiet.

A human being enters,
Smelling, hearing, tasting the air
'Beautiful nature.' whispers nature's best friend, the human.

The moon frowns, imaturely narrowing its eyes
The stars with wisdom of ages wonder at the moon's behaviour
And the moon expresses his curiousity,
Asking how a being so simple as human
Is best friend with something as supreme as Nature.


---


I stare, oblivious to the world
Stare at the forgein emotion leaking out of a body
A body filled with blood,
With a mind and a heart,
Perhaps a soul.

I pity the river.
The river holds the sorrows and problems of everyone,
every person that came to shed a tear,
that soon disappears
That soon dissolves itself into a river that cries itself to sleep

The river has no friend,
For no one wants a frowning friend
No one wants to listen to moans and pains every day
Of a river that is out of tears

Clouds laugh at it at day,
and stars giggle at it at night.
The river cries and cries,
But no one has the heart to listen





----




Light traces of silver reflective eyes,
I stare, with awe, as the corners of your face shine
Living, almost breathing.
Your hair is of vivid red,
and the contour of your body posesses every dream I own.

Her hands sharp and deadly.
Accurate. Precise.
Her sharp kneeing voice screams contendtly,
and I smile happy at her fingertips,
traces of so many memories on them.

We're close - you're constantly with me.
You follow my footsteps and you make me follow yours,
you traced my past and you haunt my future.

My bones are a necklace tied tightly inside my body,
In knots, streching, waiting for the moment I they can rip them apart
And come to you.

By a simple featherly touch,
I can transmit the pieces of my soul to you
Each one carrying a sorrow or regret
A pain or a tear
A happy thought or a broken hope.

I lost my soul, you very well know.
I lost it to you, my friend.
My best friend.

You never speak back,
But it matters not.
I know you agree and savior the moment when I touch you,
when I use you.

Your wavy hair seems thin tonight
Have you not been using a proper conditioner, my friend?
Is your hair itchy, dry
Is your skin in need of more?

Fear not, my friend,
For we will enjoy the night.
You need not rest nor sleep,
and the night is young.

Fear not, my loyal friend
For I would not dream of betraying you.

Fear not, my best friend,
For tonight I shall dye your hair a deepest hazel red
For we have not went out on a quiet evening in a while.

My best friend, my beautiful knife.