Voices echoed where no words were spoken,
Faces passed by, yet remained unseen.
Smiles wore the shape of living,
While souls wandered somewhere in between.
Anger struck like a storm in silence,
Leaving guilt where thunder used to be.
And every step away from others
Built another wall around the sea.
The world still turned, the sun still rose,
Yet colors faded from the sky.
For isolation is a quiet prison,
Where a heart can scream and none ask why.
But even shattered glass reflects the light,
Even the deepest scars can heal.
For one hand reaching through the darkness
Can remind a lonely soul to feel.
So here stand the voiceless and the broken,
The lost, the guilty, and the afraid;
Learning that being heard is not in speaking,
But in the bonds that silence never erased.
Can you still
feel our beginning?
how overwhelmingly
amazing I made you feel?
how just thinking
of me made your
heartbeat so fast,
sending that heat throughout your veins?
how it felt like there was a magnet
that pulled us to one another
and how it felt so incredibly surreal?
can you feel how you craved me
and how my soft lips
felt pressed against yours
and how it seemed like we had
already belonged to one another
an eternity of forgotten days?
can you still feel
how those
butterflies felt
when I'd pull up
in my car?
Or how badly you'd
need me next to you
when we were far
apart?
Can you feel
how when we kissed
it felt like fire
burning throughout your soul
and how you had told me
that I was the first and only
woman that made you feel whole?
do I consume your thoughts
while you're awake & in your dreams?
are you still so positive
that you and i were meant to be?
can you still hear that voice in your head
that told you I was the one
the very moment you laid eyes on me—
because I am still trapped inside the smoke.
From above, the muse of the angels, rides on the shoulders of courageous young men and women. That for various reasons, chose to play on the virtuous instruments, the ballads of those who truly lived life and wrote the songs that surrenders to the heart. Taking the oath of life that endears the vibrancy of inspired sounds, and communicates the nature of peaceful fulfillment. The quiet climax of musical passions, that makes love to the ears, and introduces exciting new complications, keeping the vitality present, and fulfill the current explanation of why we are here. Sing the songs of quiet desperation and lonely romantics who value smoky ballads and the soaring sounds of soul, to free the slavery of trends, and the tunes that strain the temples of natural diversity. Then when the sounds take a turn, to join the shakers and the movers, to find that the place we've been looking for, a new place where the tunes are fresh and countries care about spreading love...and not war, could be right here, right now, and right as rain!
Shaking off sad leaves still clinging,
singing of the summer gone,
For seasons change, and so do we,
Embrace now, golden dawn
The sunrise on the desert rises boldly, golden hued,
Reminds of life eternal, past the darkness
Night construed
Day is born, the world spins
Hope born again
Renewed
.................................................................................................................................................................................
In dark times Eve is my bright delight.
she hovers over my in darkness I devour her enemies.
Walk up toward the sky head for Eve's dream.
Knights fall warden ready for the wall.
Silver rings and golden lights.
Quantum sight searching for visions of Jesus by my side.
Eve the vampire goth queen of mystery hovers over me.
In sight of the pressure we burn with our sights on the Master.
Jesus will return with the shout of an Arch angel and a trumpet of God.
Lord you are my creator who above all created Eve my mystery Babylon my sweet honey baby.
In my times of joy I dream of Eve. Her identity, a secret. her love, very real.
Rock my Rock is Jesus cause he created her My Mystery Babylon my Hidden secret my Mirror.
Hidden in the clef of the rock I am safely in your Hand my creator My Yeshua.
After years of efforts and struggles
human beings have been able to
unfold the secrets of nature
treasured beneath the soil
in the deep oceans,underneath hill slopes
and in mountain peaks.
Only a few with dedication and determination
could reach the goal.
Penetrating through the challenges, posed by nature
efforts meet success and what is accomplished
is the mark of humanity on Earth.
The inventions give a reason for the existence
and happenings of certain phenomena on Earth.
The great personalities leave behind
a zeal to move on,a hope for existence.
What is left behind, is always an inspiration
for the generations to arrive.
The greatest mark of humanity on Earth
is the discovery of what is present,
yet unknown for centuries...
Great personalities are remembered
even after centuries, for their great contributions to mankind...
Thank you Jesus you are my family.
Trusting in You makes me feel whole.
Honoring you is my whole reason to exist until you come back.
Roses and Violins crashing into shadows.
Honey coated coffee.
Lemon roasted minds full of toffee and we soon dine.
Dining on oceans we dance toward the fun king.
Lions bowing low, Heavy singing and we know.
Jesus is our mighty one Lord of Lords.
making love to the wind, chasing dreams of meeting her my best friend..
Walking toward the end of each road I still dance with the star of the show.
Candles and my coffee tastes good.
Wait for the Lord, all you His people;
why do you hasten so?
Be like a wise farmer who tends to his crop,
or the birds of the air
who search for nourishment.
For what would be their profit?
If not the racing of their hearts,
bringing them to their end.
So trust in Him,
like the blind trusting their cane
to guide their steps.
Lord, tears fall at night so silently;
people don't notice.
In the pitch-dark hours, no one can see
puffy, red faces in broken homes
or with broken lives,
where there is no peace.
They cry and cry till sunup,
and some fall asleep,
with no appetite to eat,
for their souls are hungry for peace.
They sing,
"Who really loves me?
Who can save me
from these thoughts that torment me?"
They all judge them, Lord—
their friends and family.
They have all turned
their backs on them.
But Lord, You see.
And You are faithful,
for You never sleep.
Show them Your never-ending love,
the power of a King clothed in majesty,
with a crown of thorns
and holes in His arms and feet.
Now I see.
Over your head.
Voice memos.
Every last one of them.
Memories recorded forever.
Bracing for impact.
Even when you die.
Rather when I do.
For when I’m no longer here.
Other than the death,
Unlike any other,
Rich sounds and laughter
To be heard from your ears.
Heard without any sound coming out.
I see the flowers disappearing
And the bees flying frantically
I see the leaves falling
And I see the birds leaving town
I see the snow falling
And I see the gloomy smiles
I see the bleak skies
And I see the emptiness
I see the clear skies
And I see the morning sun
I see a faint image
I see you in a mirage
I want to fly
I want to see you smile
I want to be by your side
While I'm still alive
All is lost.
I refuse to believe
Light still shines.
Hope is fading.
It is foolish to think
Strength remains.
I am ill.
I do not concede that
There is a cure.
Hope is slipping.
It is absurd to think
I will get better.
And this will all come true unless we reverse it.
It starts as a whisper, a storm in your skin,
a pressure so loud, it echoes within.
Not for attention. Not for the show.
It’s the scream you can't let anyone know.
It's the moment you drown, desperate to feel,
when numbness becomes the loudest appeal.
They say, “Just talk,” but the words retreat -
how do you explain pain that doesn’t speak?
You cover the marks, pull down the sleeve,
play the part that others believe.
But it’s never about wanting to die -
it’s about needing something to quiet the cry.
And still, you survive. Again. Again.
You wake and ache but try to remain.
Because somewhere deep beneath that ache,
you know there's more than what pain can take.
So here’s what’s true, even if it’s small:
You are not your scars. You are not your fall.
You are the breath that followed the burn,
the strength in choosing each twist and turn.
Let your voice crack, let the silence break -
you’re allowed to need, to bend, to shake.
And if the darkness clings tonight,
let this poem hold the light
These flowers,
they talk to me.
They comfort me.
I’ve seen these trees,
I’ve seen these bushes,
I’ve seen these leaves,
I’ve seen all of it.
But these flowers,
they’re walking with me,
they’re following me.
They love me.
They remind me why I’m on this hike.
This is why.
I’ve been in unfortunate forests,
but this is all worth it.
They create this waterfall.
I don’t know how they did it,
but they handmade it.
They’ve been listening too.
I’ve been wishing to see a waterfall since hour three;
It’s hour six.
They’ve been listening,
they’ve been waking,
they’ve been talking,
they’ve been building.
All for me,
to make my hike
worthwhile…
Autumn leaves; auburn pages of my past,
torn from a weathered book.
Who thought we’d be eighteen?
And yet here I am
-an adult?!
Sat on the waterfront,
watching the last of the autumn leaves fall.
Autumn leaves.
And with them,
the days of summer peel away-
brown fragments that crackle
on the water’s surface.
Each one turns
in the pale autumn light,
like capsizing miniature boats.
The evenings draw in.
The sunlight fades earlier,
spilling weak gold
across the lake.
And somewhere beyond the trees,
the cold is gathering.
Yes, this autumn has left,
and with it, my childhood.
But autumn leaves never truly will.
In their beautiful shades of gold,
I see your faces.
Autumn leaves fall,
and nobody knows
what will replace them-
only that life will persist,
In all its strange beauty.
And perhaps
that is all that is needed:
let now become back then,
and wrap yourself tight
in those almost-forgotten smiles.
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