Happiness is not the only thing I lack
I carry a heavy weight, a sack
On my shoulders? No,
On my heart a bit, back
On my soul too
Some debt left due.
No, I don’t cry
No tears in my droughty eyes
No smile on the dark, low
Lips. They are never in bow…
Not only fear I lack
But a hand, that once was on my back.
My eyes are empty
Just like a deserted island
A ship left stagnant
In a similar icy cold stagnant sea
I don’t just lack hope
I lack love. My choice? Nope.
Those pale stones of skin
Those endless, noiseless breath
Those water-less, emotionless eyes
Those wild feelings left in dread.
They just remind me,
How much more I lack…
How much they made me lack…
I still behave, as I hadn’t had a choice…
I lack, even more than I do lack
I lack a pulse, I lack a voice
In my world, black and white
I don’t even own myself…my breath, my sight.
Want to know what I lack?
Its myself I lack…
The picture made my heart stir and restless.
Out of that restlessness, this piece of poetry or prose, what ever you call it, came out. Just the very words my heart described the painting with. All inspired by the picture, so the credit goes to it!
I just wish, I interpreted it right.
Hats off to the artist, who painted such a beautiful and heart-stirring master-piece on the canvas.