I am from

that table in the corner

once alive, now dead in silence
all but a memory

a tale of hope and glory

of heroes and maidens
all from the villain’s eyes perceived

yesterday
looking for tomorrow
not seeing today

I am from here

I am from Nowhere

I am from the wasteland that is my reflection

the words are mine, their meaning even more so

and yet without another they are flat
like the melody I would sing

a single tree
branches broken, yet bearing a single flower
in which the beauty of the world can be found
the oasis in the desert, the giver of life
seeking the song on the wind