Masquerade

 by Heidi

The unexplainable rhythm of fate plays an unbalanced tune in my head.

My footsteps march to the silence.

Beat missing beat missing time.

Pounding heart joins the symphony,

and out comes my life—

an arrangement with no common melody.

I try to make sense of the unheard language.

I change my step.

I hold my breath,

yet beat rhythms on without me.

The words of my soul

a harmony of sorts

not reflecting of purpose

none the less.

I step into time,

search out the rhyme,

and I know

beyond words,

it is mine.

***

Time

by Heidi

Time,

as the wind beneath a bird in flight,

carries us along with each stroke of might.

And time after time follows its course.

We sleep and dream in its cyclic currents,

and at moments desire escape of the fire breathing beast

who billows in wrath a path carved in his smoke,

hurrying us in our travel to destruction.

Yet we resist only in the end.

We send messages to one another,

warning of each one's destiny.

As we are pulled along in the force of its cutting stream,

carving as such of a maze in existence,

our strength so inconsistent.

The force of will a mere fleeting emotion,

the immature passings of the indecisive child.

We attempt in vain to escape the claws of such,

and again we realize the obvious.

Our struggle only gives strength to its power,

as in quicksand we live and breathe and desire our life,

yet in determination building its strife

as our travail brings about prematurely the end.

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