THE HALF CAST

I.

I sail alone;
lonely (at times)
like a feather in mid-air
or a flower blosomming in the high of
a famine.

II.

The hands that have held my heart
have failed me-
time and time again,
not that I am perpetually fragile
but I bruise easily.
Even I ,
have failed the Hand that formed me:
I have danced
and grovelled
and partaken
in
the orgy of rebellion against His Will-
I am not that innocent.

III.

I sail alone inside the castle of my skin
Gliding through emotions,
notions,
visions.
Inside,I am a bird:
soaring winds
perching,
nesting,
laying eggs & warming them-
till they hatch.

IV.

Inside,I travel.
And I sleep to take a rest only in the
dark of night.
But even in my dreams,
I am awake.
I travel the Seven Seas.
I loot.
I discover.
I fall in love.
And my lover dies at sea.
I cry and my tears mingle with the sea,
my grief only dies when I die.

V.

Inside,
I am strong and I am weak.
Inside,
I cry even in the middle of a smile
and the little girl that i am,never dies-
this little girl adores her father
and he is invincible-
even Death he defeats.

VI.

Little contours run on my face-
wrinkles of care.
Pressure
and pain
and patience,
press heavily on my heart.
The blackness of the night colours my
days,
and my eyes are wet with tears even in
my sleep.
I have not sailed,
I have not soared,
I have not tasted love,
and Death took father away.

VI.

I sail alone-
like a feather in mid-air.
the loneliness that chokes me in the
middle of a moment
is that of a flower
blossoming
in
the high of a famine.
I am a half-cast.

©Daisy Moraa

courtesy of Storyzetu