Attn. Jennifer M.

[pebble_]

I feel as if I've pulled the razor across my own wrists. Now as I scramble to stop the bleeding I watch my life slowly running out of me. The timorous laugh you once spoke of now trembles as my body does as the world turns cold and black. I remember once when she warned me about my action. Consumed with hubris and and selfish pride I could not be consoled. My own actions have led to my downfall by denying her I have destroyed us both. And for a pittance, a mere illusion, a need to be "free"? I know enough about the world to know that none of us is free and the more a man fights his destiny so much the greater his suffering will be.

She was the most unbelievable creature for she has burned and indelible image onto the surface of my heart. Hair that caresses your face like the march wind frolics over you on an evening on the beach. Eyes dark as the well at the bottom of my heart that peer into you with infinite forgiveness, that when they shed tears one can only be reminded of the Madonna. To describe her smile as brilliant would be to insult and belittle the magnitude of its radiance. On my most trying days I swear she could resurrect the dead with it. The finest cloth from the best silkworms in china are crude burlap in comparison to her skin. Skin so crystalline and smooth that if I were to rest my head in heaven my sheets would not be as soft. She is the sole ruler of the kingdom of my heart and the country of my soul. It is a crown she has fought for with bloody tears and endless pain.

I am the pauper who stumbled into the litter of a princess and could not comprehend that I was among royalty. I have banished myself from her palace and I walk among the dirt and stench of the country road as her majesty's glory vanishes over the hills behind me. Reminded of the time in the palace as mouse crawls across my path into its burrow I stop and admire this creature so small yet greater than me in so many ways. As I look closer I see the mother and her pink babes who have not yet opened their eyes to see the world. And my tears settle on blades of grass like the morning's dew. I cannot help smiling as I muse over how a dirt burrow or a gilded palace are equally marvelous.

The Pebble

This morning I picked up a pebble and I gave it to my love,

I handed it to her on the altar and I knew she would be there,

An ordinary stone half smooth and half rough hewn,

I chose it because it resemble no other,

I caught me in front of a quaint shop across the bustling avenue,

Beckoning and demanding me to pick her up,

I gently placed the jewel in my coat,

Another gem glinted from the shop's window

"How much for that ring sir?" "Why isn't it for sale name your price"

And with not a word the wizened relic gestured toward my coat

I cannot give this pebble because it is not mine, It belongs to my love

The man smiled at this as I reached for my billfold,

He put his hand on my wrist and placed the ring in my hand.

"You will see her again someday," he said, and I chuckled but profusely thanked him.

My life ended as I crossed the avenue once more, The man was right.

On an altar of clouds and with the angels trumpeting,

I gave this pebble to my love.

[JackMeOff]

Originally posted by pebble_:

I feel as if I've pulled the razor across my own wrists. Now as I scramble to stop the bleeding I watch my life slowly running out of me. The timorous laugh you once spoke of now trembles as my body does as the world turns cold and black. I remember once when she warned me about my action. Consumed with hubris and and selfish pride I could not be consoled. My own actions have led to my downfall by denying her I have destroyed us both. And for a pittance, a mere illusion, a need to be "free"? I know enough about the world to know that none of us is free and the more a man fights his destiny so much the greater his suffering will be.

She was the most unbelievable creature for she has burned and indelible image onto the surface of my heart. Hair that caresses your face like the march wind frolics over you on an evening on the beach. Eyes dark as the well at the bottom of my heart that peer into you with infinite forgiveness, that when they shed tears one can only be reminded of the Madonna. To describe her smile as brilliant would be to insult and belittle the magnitude of its radiance. On my most trying days I swear she could resurrect the dead with it. The finest cloth from the best silkworms in china are crude burlap in comparison to her skin. Skin so crystalline and smooth that if I were to rest my head in heaven my sheets would not be as soft. She is the sole ruler of the kingdom of my heart and the country of my soul. It is a crown she has fought for with bloody tears and endless pain.

I am the pauper who stumbled into the litter of a princess and could not comprehend that I was among royalty. I have banished myself from her palace and I walk among the dirt and stench of the country road as her majesty's glory vanishes over the hills behind me. Reminded of the time in the palace as mouse crawls across my path into its burrow I stop and admire this creature so small yet greater than me in so many ways. As I look closer I see the mother and her pink babes who have not yet opened their eyes to see the world. And my tears settle on blades of grass like the morning's dew. I cannot help smiling as I muse over how a dirt burrow or a gilded palace are equally marvelous.

The Pebble

This morning I picked up a pebble and I gave it to my love,

I handed it to her on the altar and I knew she would be there,

An ordinary stone half smooth and half rough hewn,

I chose it because it resemble no other,

I caught me in front of a quaint shop across the bustling avenue,

Beckoning and demanding me to pick her up,

I gently placed the jewel in my coat,

Another gem glinted from the shop's window

"How much for that ring sir?" "Why isn't it for sale name your price"

And with not a word the wizened relic gestured toward my coat

I cannot give this pebble because it is not mine, It belongs to my love

The man smiled at this as I reached for my billfold,

He put his hand on my wrist and placed the ring in my hand.

"You will see her again someday," he said, and I chuckled but profusely thanked him.

My life ended as I crossed the avenue once more, The man was right.

On an altar of clouds and with the angels trumpeting,

I gave this pebble to my love.

phat!

------------------

...Ph0eniX