ELTHAM HIGH SCHOOL ANTHOLOGY
Eve Souquett Wigg 2015/16
Wind is wild, wind is free,
Just like my friends and I, staring at that tree.
That tree is old, maybe older than time,
But over the hills, I hear the bell chime.
Time to go home, best not be late,
Past towns, through the gate,
To escape the evil clutches of fate.
But that Tree, O! So old!
Standing there, out in the cold,
Wind is wild, wind is free,
just like the tree,
my friends, and me!
Walking Through That Path Of Trees
Walking through that path of trees,
Un-disturbed, in twos and threes,
For someone to reach out a hand
So you may reach the Promised Land
They can smell the flowers,
Feel the wind against their cheeks
They still have hope
They haven't given up
They will march on
They will not get a fright
Nothing will tear them apart
These friendships, dear to heart
Never be broken,
Not before the last one has been slayed
They will stick by each other
Till the end
But their fate,
They can't comprehend
Walking through that path of trees
In twos and threes
The Child of War
He’s sitting in the rubble of what was once his home. This is a child of war. He picks up the remains of a porcelain doll owned by his dear sister. He can still hear the bomber planes zooming up above him. This is a child of war. His only comfort in the doll and his mother’s handkerchief, he picks himself up, looks into the sky, and awaits his fate. He waits, for seconds, for minutes, for hours. Then, nothing. This is a child of war. What was once destined for greatness, is now lost. Long forgotten in history. This is a child, born from a raging war that he did not commence. They say he wanders the highest mountains and the deepest cage, searching far and wide, for his Mother, his father, his sister. They say you can hear his whisper in the wind, at the dead of night, He whispers: “Be free, mother, father, sister dear, for I have come to join you, we’ll finally be home again.” This is a child of war. And his spirit is finally free.
You know me.
I am the creature that you feel.
Deep, down inside. I do not sleep, I take your life away,
And I am constantly there,
In your dreams, your thoughts, and your children.
I will cause you to wail, to weep, to cry.
But also to cry of joy, of happiness.
I am the butterflies in your stomach,
The redness in your cheeks,
The beating of your heart. But I am madness.
I will drive you to think, “Am I worth it, and am I worthy of love?”
My answer will be different each time.
Sometimes it’s a no,
You are not,
You are filthy,
And not worthy of affection,
And sometimes it’s a yes.
You are worthy of love.
I am the clouding in your mind,
And I am also the clear.
I am the loud,
And I am the quiet.
I am the tears streaming down your face like rain.
Rain traveling down your bedroom window.
As you cry.
You cry because I am overwhelming.
You cry because I am overbearing.
And you cry because I am the creature in the back of your mind
That you cannot escape.
Because I am emotion, dear human.
I will rip you apart from the inside out.
But I will crumble and leave you to pick up the pieces.
For though I am strong,
I am also weak.
I am like you, dear human,
I wail, I weep, I cry.
And I laugh, I’ll shiver, and then I’ll die.
I’ll die with you.
I’ll ride out each straggling breath as you breathe out your goodbyes.
And I will be a flame that is blown out.
All will be dark.
Because I am emotion.
You cannot escape me,
But I cannot escape you.