|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
A Song Her life is a song. Each event is an accent, and the crescendos and decrescendos of life create her melody. Her family is a chorus, her work a refrain; the key changes as seasons, years and people pass. Lush strings flood the halls when her child is born, and the lament of a soft piano touches the audience at her husband's death.
Yet the chorus repeats, but the notes are subtly changed. It slows to a largo in her age, and a brass refrain heralds her passing.
Thus is the passing of but a violin in the orchestra and a note in the symphony.
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More