J is for Justice

Hey, lovelies! Ah, it's Friday at last! While I'm always extremely happy to see Fridays come around (and who isn't?), I'm especially relieved this particular week - it's been pretty stressful, and it'll be nice to have a weekend more or less to myself. :) Plus, another very exciting thing: FH beta reader comments are due IN TWO DAYS!!! I'm in dire need of new opinions on the book, considering I've pretty much memorised most of it by now, so I really can't wait to see what everybody thought of it. The feedback from those who have already given me their thoughts has been quite favourable, and I'm slightly-surprised-while-at-the-same-time-insanely-happy about that! ;)

I kind of drew a blank on what to write on for this week's Friday Poetry - so I decided to phone a friend for a prompt. :D The only guideline I gave him was that it had to begin with J, so after much deliberation, he advised me to write a prompt based around the theme of "justice".

This is what I came up with - it's called Symphony, and although it perhaps isn't based upon a very conventional idea of justice, I kind of like how it turned out. What do you guys think? Don't forget to let me know in the comments section, and I hope you all had a wonderful Friday! xx

love, Topaz


you deserve to have your voice heard.

– you deserve to have your symphony of sound gushing from deep within the unassuming silence that has surrounded you for so long, through the layers of secrets and shyness that you cannot bring yourself to break through and the walls built around yourself that you have always assumed to be soundproof –

you deserve your song to echo through the earth and the heavens and even far, far beyond that

and this much I know: that if the world might listen to the screaming beaming scheming dreamer hidden underneath the shell that binds you to everlasting muteness it might become just a little bit brighter through the ray of light you bring to it,

and if all the people rushing obliviously into empty smiles and crooked promises might stop for just a single moment and think to listen to those hiding in the shadows oh, the things they might hear from the people whose minds they had always imagined to be the stillest of all

but you sit, ever hushed, ever watching and the truths and the lies catch in your throat just short of careening out of your mind and tumbling into existence, shattering the shrieking shouting ignorance that perpetually surrounds you

and still you say nothing, even as your symphony sings out its desperate longing to have some audience beyond the armour that shields your heart so carefully

and you silence it

and instead look around at the oblivious world and, unnoticed, bring out a battered notebook and a cheap black pen and bend your head over the flowing blank pages close your eyes, hear the music cascading through your soul

and you let the poetry sing for you.