Reservoir

Here is where the winter wind whispers,
Where there are cold hearts and secret shivers,
Here I see the supposedly fearless face that I know I must recognise,
But never did I before see the green in those eyes,
My memory of her once pure past now quivers,

Here I look upon the ambitious girl,
I take a moment of ambivalence whilst waiting in her world,
Hasty to run back, I consider stapling myself to the ground,
I am a coward, as I knowingly wish to walk away now,
But I stay, hiding behind my radiant red curls,

There I went to extreme, wondrous lengths,
I was a cold, cunning liar, as I used to pretend,
I hid behind a mask made of iron and steel,
I always had the first spin of the wheel,
Yet I cower from recalling back then,

The face, so enamouring to me now, takes me in,
I stare silently as my shaky head begins to spin,
The water ripples and the snow marks the white that used to be my heart,
The face moves as I throw another stone, maybe too harsh,
Now, I find that I’m drastically afraid to blink,

I don’t want to miss this girl, but she will effortlessly follow me anyhow,
I want to stay fixed here forever, but I must leave now,
The memories, too sharp, too quick, they now haunt my dreaded dreams,
Dreams consisting of a beautiful girl, blue-green eyes and peace,
Eyes watching warily, as I stare stupendously, but needn’t she shout,

I dread to remember her falling from far heights,
I hesitate before I meet those mysteriously watchful eyes,
Blue for the sadness filling her solemn soul,
Green for the emptiness of envy that has now gotten old,
To her, this is now her route for this forever fading and lonely life,

But only lonely because she discards those she loves desperately,
She’d broke their ties so they’d be ignorant to her deceit,
She was honest before she fell into the hurtful hands of fate,
Here she speaks so you can see why she must foolishly fake,
Her smile, her laugh, her cries are the only part she needn’t pretend to be real,

She copies myself, but her face has become wastefully withered,
But I choose to look past the parts of her that appear to be disfigured,
I refuse to believe that her face is a copy of how my own became bolder,
Not quite beautiful, but her eyes appear to me as suspiciously cautious and colder,
Here this girl infinitely defends her distraught self from bizarrely bold blizzards,

She longs for loving arms that wrap around her frail frame,
Ones that belong to a face she needlessly desires to stay,
Here she breaks, hoping they’ll help her back up from her own destruction,
But she has fallen fatally into the surreal and shaky situation,
Where must she run when nowhere is secure or safe?

Wherever she ran, her demons endlessly followed her footprints,
Her imperfections always there for her to see every time she’d blink,
I look upon my own reflection, blatantly blunter than I think I remember,
Shallowly swaying amongst the rippling water of the reservoir, maybe she will live forever,
Here in the life of the reservoir that has me inspired to finally let go, love and live…