Isolation is to be left out when you want to be in

That dull sense of loneliness that haunts you within

Isolation is feeling alone even when people are near

And feeling the rush of blood pounding in your ear

Isolation is staying away from people, afraid they won’t talk back

Counting how many times you get let down until you lose track

Isolation is reaching out, uttering a cry

From deep inside your heart but not hearing a reply

Isolation is hearing laughter in a room and silence when you walk inside

It makes you feel worthless, but you must disguise

Isolation is the cruelest emotion.

Even when bombs cease to devastate

The wounded moan in agony still

And the wandering orphan wanders

Through wailing winds of piercing chill

No weeping willows left to weep

An empty landscape, ruined lands

And from a grieving mother’s eyes, tears seep

At the sight of her child’s blood on her hands

The horizon is streaked, a canvas of red

But remembered are the shells that used to fall overhead

Remembered is the sea of blood of the dead

And a lone survivor shields his eyes and bows his head

Silence.

The dead children are no longer playing

Instead they were robbed of their childhood

Recognising the castaway bodies decaying

Whilst departing themselves amidst their own blood

Roars of shellfire, a deafening sound

Tracks littered with corpses on the ground

The nauseating scent of blood blown around

This is conflict I have found.

I am one of the many members

Of a dark and lonely world

All that is left are diminished embers

Where the fire of sight once burned

I can’t see the prismatic petals all of a different hue

Scattered in grass glistening with morning dew

And I can’t see the snow falling without a sound

Making a blanket of white on the ground

My vision is consumed by darkness

It is a perpetual blanket of ink

You don’t realise your sight is priceless

Until it becomes indistinct

I can’t see the fairly lights that illuminate the sky

The sequin silver and polar white that forces you to sigh

I can’t see the sunset, an ever changing work of art

Instead I stand in silence reaching for the landscape with my heart

When you gaze into my eyes of shadows

You’ll perceive that I am blind

To see the world your eyes are your windows

Mine are my heart and my mind…

Some taste beauty in the salt of the seas

Others smell beauty in earth and trees

Some can see beauty glowing in the skies

Yet nobody can pinpoint where beauty lies

Is beauty the falling of snowflakes without a sound

Making a blanket of white on the ground?

Or autumn filled with red and gold leaves

Blown away with a whisper of breeze?

Is it the prismatic petals all of a different hue

Scattered in grass glistening with morning dew?

Or the sweet birdsong lasting hours upon hours

Sending shivers of delight through heavenly made flowers?

Who is to solve beauty this ancient mystery?

It is adhered to time, adhered to history

It surrounds each and every one of us

Each is unique yet beauteous.

The beautiful blinking fairy lights

Illuminate the sky

Their sequin silver and polar white

Forces me to sigh

The darkness consumes everything

But fails to envelop

The glow, the gleam, the glimmering

I see when I look up

At the speckles of light that twirl and dance

Across the perpetual blanket of ink

I am hypnotised to a trance

That does not cease when I blink

Because the burning balls of fire

In my mind shall never expire.