Those peaceful hills

March 2, 2014

trust

I.
Trust
dictated my gravitation towards you,
and my surrender into your youthful arms
gave me a sense of worth home was unable to.
Chopped winds brought me to your hell,
and separated me from mine.

temper

II.
Throughout the years I endured in your dome
I witnessed your glamour fade away
to the euphoric fantasy it stemmed from,
and my tightly encapsulated
Temper
crept back once more.

Obedience turned into hate
when you ripped my innocence away
in order for your justice to prevail.

peace

III.
I surrendered to youthful arms
that time weathered and
morphed into wretched things.
The buzzing chaos around us
saturated our feelings
and left a senseless void in our battle charred hearts.
We could have gone home as surviving lunatics,
but falling with faces intact felt so much more –
fulfilling.

Amid the crackling gusts that whooshed through the hills,
stars and cong exchanged farewells for none to hear.
There in those hills I greeted a child
who finally took me to where I enlisted to be:
At utter and final
Peace.

Oil Paintings by Ruzanna Mkhitaryan

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