...And Humans

Every day the mortal comes to gaze,
stare,
admire us,
I think she wishes to be like us,
She mimics us, how ludicrous,
She may never be like us,
But, perhaps, I could be like her,
She moves,
swirls,
curls,
She is sinewy,
elegant,
contemplative,
endearing,
Does the mortal possess virtues I do not?
Her face reveals wonders,
emotions,
She speaks through those sensation, without moving her delicate lips,
May I one day join her to escape,
flee,
my bored existence,
Of people who come,
pass,
weep,
Oh how I admire her dark,
rain-soaked hair,
her black,
enshrouding garb,
She moves, reaching, grasping, towards me,
how I wish I could do that,
Her hand is cold, yet warmer,
it is unnatural,
Her gaze is unbroken, yet moving,
it is not how it should be,
Her ears still listen to the sobs and pleas,
it is not worth sacrificing what I have,
We are much alike, but how different we still are,
In her elegance and talent,
she has lost,
Lost the ability to be eternal,
immortal,
peaceful,
Instead she can gaze at what she can never have from her lowly, sunken ground,
Love and Hope her only virtues,
So she leaves, and I realize that my family of stone,
ever-gazing angels,
are all I need for all eternity,
and I am stronger for I am not afflicted with her problems,

But still.. I wish... to be like her


Back