Perhaps just sometimes the story… finds the story teller
not the other way around

She existed because she dreams
She dreams no more

It’s in the pages
It’s in the words

Search with me
And perhaps you or I will find who is telling the story

She’s been bleeding along time
suffering in poetry and prose

The dreamer will dream no more
The pen has been laid to rest

It’s already been said

4 responses to “Within

  1. 2livewithjoy

    Layla, your post and song are both so graphic and intense. I keep reading what you wrote, trying to fully interpret its meaning and wondering if I should be reading between the lines or taking it as it is written. Either way, I’m praying that your heart wounds are starting to heal, not getting worse. I’ve missed reading your posts and I expect others have too. You’ve been fighting a hard battle and I hope you are seeing a glimmer of light in the distance. Give those little munchkins of yours a great big hug and tell them you are one strong fighter and you have a caring cheering section online. Hugs…

  2. Understood. We are only witness to the world turning. Our viewpoint pours out in our stories, poems, songs, and art. But who is author? If we did not create the moon, or think up the flowers, or even name them…then who really authors our pen? Interesting! And I love that song :) I always wanted to be Amy Lee.

  3. What if sleeping beauty was pierced by the thorns surrounding her? What if she was saved by something other than a prince?

  4. great poetry, L. I miss reading your thoughts. how are you? still remember me? :) hope all is well with you. keep safe and stay beautiful inside and out.

To all that let me know your thoughts... I appreciate each one. Thank you for reading all my Untitledmoments. ~L

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