She Wakes –The Waker

The Waker explores the cost of emotional suppression, a celebrates those who step out of it to speak when silence is expected.

So let’s speak, when we should. Like The Sleeper’s hero.

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

In the kingdom where sleep’s veil holds reign

Where solemn winds through curtains spin,

I find the enchanted you, held by wires,

Your form alive, your mind expired.

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

You the Sleeper, who calms the mind

Clear of anguish, free from time

I have browsed the ivy books

The ones they burned, the ones they took

Of moonlit graves, and marble stones

Where death dances, sorrow moans

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

Your room painted, sterile blue

But violets call out to me too

So I speak, forbidden words

Those that haunt, that must be heard

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

“Quivering, yes, the tomb does breathe,

Though it keeps pained memories beneath the leaves.

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

Where beauty slept in her white dress,

Her grief was banned, but no less

My eyelids twitch once. The air is still.

They’ll banish me–to dearth, they will

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

But I say this, from depth of heart,

She just sleeps well, did not depart.

They closed her eyes to dull her ache

Cloaked her in silence, spoke not her name,

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

Nothing can hold what longs to feel

No rest can make the wound less real.

So rise my sleeper, with your pain

The moonlight shines, your blood remains

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

Though the future does grow cold, 

Your soul denied, your sorrow, old.

πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›πŸ¦β€β¬›

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