Song by Hans Zimmer
If you are wise and courageous enough to jump off this cliff,
There’s a journey that only belongs to the pack of poets and the deep.
One can’t fake or acquire this gifted talent, it’s really a curse,
To have a mind so vivacious that one must walk around with a notebook in their purse.
She was made from a very unique fabric of thinkers,
The ones that bleed words onto napkins and papers.
She was a book filled with letters burning in the crevasses of her mind,
Relieving her pain once they leaked on the canvas she could find.
Only the deep and wise would wake up by feeling her aura,
They knew there was someone among them that was timeless and raw.
She was all about drowning in absolute in the darkest of oceans,
Lakes and rivers were too shallow to ever stir a drop of her emotions.
She could see the imposters from a mile away… the disguised,
The mountains, the mountains she liked. The pile of dead leafs she despised.
Her depth was carved from the lava of sickness, tears, betrayal and falls,
And so she grew to know the sweet taste of sunrises, birds singing and all!
She could find gems in her one, slowing chewing his food,
Only pain can teach you to see magic like this, in the mundane for the fools.
There was something grand about her intense emotions and violent moods,
The deep, love to watch her dance and change phases night after night modelling the shape of the moon.
There is a sweet purity in her observation of the world around her,
The superficial and the mean is to her like water is to fire.
The deep and strong ignites her flame and she goes pure bright blue,
Her values run like rivers in her body, who can match her devotion? Just a few.
The cream of the cream in her world, they would die for love,
The old souls are a bunch of poets and thinkers, rebels from a world dry with dust.
She’s so proud she walks her head high to be a part of the absolute bunch,
She walks with the intent of finding the ones with the same code on a hunch.
In a world where people puffs their chest and lie through their teeth,
Everyone of them wishes to have burning minds and be so deep.
“Oh hello, how are you” bunch of nothings they don’t even want the true answer,
Because God forbid any true conversation could lead to something real or bitter.
She used to look at herself in the mirror and wonder why she felt so out of sync,
Now she gets it, she belongs to a group of real, they are so rare it’s magnificent.
A smirk on her lips now she marvels at her beauty of who she is, no more being perplexed,
She sees what the deep see in her, a perfect mosaic of colour and depth.
-Written by Nadia Farag
Thanks for reading Friend
Nadia Farag xxx