Con Cave

Deep in a cave
So distant and near
The dwelling of slaves in the
Brains of themselves
Fighting against life to get the hell
Out…

Nasty and Gnarled
And covered in filth Is the wee little girl
Who was left here one year.
She’s covered in cobwebs, blackened by soot,
She smells of tar baths and mud dried to her foot.

Alone in this cave
With simply her thoughts
This wee little girl grows incredibly lost.
Her hair is all tangled, mangled and matted,
And she stares through the pain with crystal ball
Eyes that know everything and everyone who’s ever
Been saddened.

Above her seeps in some light
From the sky;
Something mysterious that catches her eye.
She smiles- just a hint; a new feeling arises.
As she casts her glance at her own shadow
She startles so surprised.
A happiness that warms her outside and in,
Something so comfortable she lived so long without.

The feelings grow stronger, moment by moment,
As the wee little girl feels things she’d only ever imagined.
This joy and this pride are something so brilliant,
And all of this time feeling lost,
Yet all that she’d dreamed of dwelled deep inside her,
Waiting for her to look up…

Deep in a cave
The wee little girl listens to droplets of water as they
Trickle in from up above, cleaning her filth and cleansing her heart.
And she dreams her dreams of reaching that light.
And of love.


copyright farrell.me 2012