Friday, November 17, 2006
@6:50 AM
For as many times it seemed possible,
it seemed impossible.
For as many times it took a step forward,
it withdrew.
Lust, they call it?
A gross over-estimation of oneself?
Before these downplaying notions seeped into it's conciousness,
the toad had never thought that dreaming for a swan's companion was wrong.
IT could only hide within the bush of cattails,
and observe the graceful display of all that it ever wanted, in silence.
For if it ever shows itself,
it's hedious form would cause a lifetime's regret.
Perhaps sensing her presence was enough of a blessing,
watching from afar was enough a godsend oppurtunity.
It knows that it can never ask for more;
it was never entitled a place in the picturesque setting of the glistening lake with the swan as centrepiece.
All it could do is to hide it's sorrows in the day,
and pour them out to the stars and the moons at night.
For everytime it tells itself it is contented that the swan is happy,
it questions:"Why cant i be the comforting rays of the sun that shower her with warmth, or even the fishes which swim under her feet?"
Well..have been playing around with this idea of a toad lusting for a swan's meat. BUt in this case i altered the meaning of phrase to 'a toad lusting for a swan', which appears to be a more intangible form of desire.
LOlx perhaps this is why toads only live by the riverside in the marshes, and only croak at night.
-REiZ siging off
Siat LA