Poems And Prose - Tumblr Posts

Sacred devision Why do you cry, why do you mourn, most of you are hardly born. Eyes wide to the world you've fit inside, never one to loosen your constricting pride, always moving with the suitable stagnent tide. Sitting quietly or raving madley, from high up here its watched so sadley, the cynical are caste aside, left to rot along the roadside. They do not build empires and for that we are grateful, after all, are we not if fickel, always faithful. Diogenes spectates these violent themes, all while soaking in heavens simple beams, he is content and at the same time spent, this life now turned theatrical event. Petal cheeks are longed to be touched , if only reasons didn't mean so much, The quickness of silver leaving greedy hands only to be stolen from distant lands. I watch it all, I see you torn, but I never doubt that in all your symphony of strife, that there wasn't a meaning in this flickering spark of life.

Tender care Your voice a beacon in the dark, A lighthouse guiding through the icy stark. your words a gentle soothing breeze, embracing wounds with tender ease Like a rose that blooms from buried cracks, You rise above lifes twisted tracks In your strength a flame ablaze, a warrior's spirit, fierce and brave May this verse embrace your soul, Make you feel seen and truly whole. You're not alone, we'll stand beside, With love and support, forever to confide

Swimming mid flight The coolness of hate turning warm under a tender touch. Salty tears watering a dried up husk, soft hands soothing aching eyes. Heart held devotion and tired bitter lies. Life so fleeting, as swift as a bird. Moments that ground us to roots of this earth.To be human is run fast and fall, but never to give up and to always laugh at the dizzying gall. If I had wings I'd learn to swim, for this life is a cliffegde and I won't jump on a whim.

But sometimes I remember that I am but a fish, I lounge within my bowl, and never see the world as a whole.

What must they think of us, the ones outside that globe, watching us take our first breath only to drowned with nothing left.

So when I look out at this world from within my little bowl, I see that life is meaningless but so are songs of old.

I certainly find beauty in those melodies so why shouldn't I find music in the simple things, perhaps I'll turn it into a kind of remedy

Below they weep If the gods below the earth could reach out with hands of stone and moss what would they say about all they've lost?

Could you tame the cries of misty eyes singing lost goodbyes could you answer that heartbreaking why?

Dreams are dreams, you can't apologize for them. Do what you want, just don't make the decision that's gonna affect the rest of your life, based on wrong criteria.