C
literature

Calling

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Sometimes, I forget…
Just who I am,
Just what I've done,
Where I've been,
And where I'm from

But the past has a voice…
We feel it, listen,
We have no choice,
But to let it glisten,
In all it's noise

I hear the past…
It's calling me(calling me),calling me(calling me…)
It always laughs last…
It's mocking me, mocking me, mocking me…
Calling(calling), calling(calling…)

Is there even a way…
To get free…from me…?

Sometimes, I forget…
Who I'm loving,
And why I'm living,
The chances I take,
When I'm forgiving

The past is a noose…
Wrapped around us,
Tied by thousands,
In an instant we fade,
Into nothingness…

I hear the past…
It's calling me(calling me),calling me(calling me…)
It always laughs last…
It's mocking me, mocking me, mocking me…
Calling(calling), calling(calling…)

Is there even a way…
To get free…from me…?

Standing on your own,
Doesn't prove that you're alive!
Fighting to be alone,
Is no way to survive!
The past is a portrait,
Of everything we've seen!
Making us our own mirror,
While watching the world through the sheen…!

And still the past…
Is calling me(calling me), calling me(calling me…)
It always laughs last…
It's mocking me, mocking me, mocking me…
It makes us lose our way so fast…
Spiralling out of control,
Well, that's just too bad
Ignoring what we know…
And then we're giving up,
And letting go,
The pieces of our lives,
No longer flow…
Still, it's calling(calling), calling(calling…)

And mocking, everything…

jlp January 12, 2012
Over the last two years the depth, scope, of my work has altered dramatically, I think it’s more obvious to me due to the lesser amount of completed work, so that the differences are glaring between pieces, where before the differences were more muted due to the extreme amount of work I had completed.

Over the last 2 years, while the subjects may be the same, the way I write has evolved greatly, I take far more chances with rhythm and flow, with word usage, I think in part because I have fully realized, understood, not only what I’m capable of as a songwriter, but have also fully realized that an artists first, truest loyalty, must be to his or herself.

“Calling” is, I feel, a wonderful example of the rhythm that I hear, feel, inside me, and write to.

The past is always calling, but what matters is not that we listen to it, but HOW we listen to it.

We learn, or we drown.

:icondonotuseplz::iconmyartplz:
Published:
© 2012 - 2021 TheseKrimzonFlames
Comments20
anonymous's avatar
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Emotastic-chik5's avatar
Beautiful. Amazing. Incredible.... just like you.

I can relate to this piece inside and thats why I love it so :heart:
Aborro's avatar
So beautiful....
Aborro's avatar
no, thank YOU, for sharing, as always ^^
SkunkWitch's avatar
This is just to beautiful for the words I know of,
but that's obviously not the case for you man
TheseKrimzonFlames's avatar
I simply write them, I have no idea where the worst come from.

Most of the time. :giggle:
BrightStar2's avatar
Put together well, it Speaks to me as I get older
sometimes we can only see what has past, and not sure about the future, but like you said
We can learn from it, or we drown. I will swim oneday...:heart:
TheseKrimzonFlames's avatar
One thinks you're already swimming love. :)
BrightStar2's avatar
yes you are right I am but
in a fish bowl with no direction at the moment..lol
BrightStar2's avatar
haha yes, I need set my GPS UP... :iconflowerheartplz:
TheseKrimzonFlames's avatar
Pft, the unknown is unknown for a reason. ;)
BrightStar2's avatar
Yes follow where the heart...Lead
:heart:
.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`• :heart:
Soul-Reader's avatar
Beautiful darling :heart:
anonymous's avatar
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