The Depot
The morning sun begins to peek,
my shaking knees are feeling weak.
With heavy baggage in my hand,
it takes my strength to simply stand.
I am so numb the silence roars,
I have survived my endless wars.
Gazing at the train platform
remnants of the passing storm.
The grass glistens in the breaking sun
oblivious to the battle won.
Crowds disperse, the platform clears,
the whistle echoes in my ears.
To be alone at last, I breathe,
I'm taking in the autumn breeze.
My first steps forward, timid ones,
the light of day finally comes.
For I'm unsure what lies ahead,
will they love me now, wish me dead.
It matters none from here on in,
I fought the war, I fought the sin.
My body's weak but I am home,
my weary soul will cease to roam.
Debra
A soft wind waltzed in the darkness of night
With a silver moon shedding a dim light,
A wild willow wafting with gentle grace,
Reflecting the shine of stars on its face
With wooing wind whispering a sweet song
While frolicking on verdant leaves along,
Awaking crickets close from fields to creep,
Lulling my weary soul slowly to sleep,
Caressing the grass on the front yard lawn~
Somehow, this view left me with break of dawn.
Bright, luminous, blue stars
are fixated on affection
The moonlight fervor flooding
my weary soul.
Storm recedes definitely.
The sun shines brilliantly
fervently. My leafy soul is
full of felicity ,delight
The bearable butterfly lives
In the beauteous desert.
The blue pebble enfolds
a leafless forest.
The green runlet flows into
an unavoidable fate
I want to go home —
my heart aches for belonging.
But where is home?
Can a man truly be homeless?
I take flight, running,
to the place I once called mine.
But the gates refuse to let me past —
for a house is not a home.
I knock and pound upon the door,
yet no one comes to answer.
I hear their laughter echo within —
for a house is not a home.
Painfully it dawns on me,
I’m not welcome where I was born.
Perhaps it’s time to rise from the ashes,
Find a heart that will love my weary soul,
and build — not just a house, but a home.
I laid my heavy head upon my bed,
Worn thin by the day’s demands.
Every inch of my body burned,
And soon I fell into deathlike sleep.
In that land, I met the Lord—
Long had I evaded Him;
But this time, He found me,
And would not let me go.
He kissed my weary soul,
Overwhelmed by His love;
I poured out my broken heart,
As His gentle hands held me still.
I know not all that passed between us,
But I woke with a heart made willing—
Ready to serve,
Ready to follow where He leads.
fountain of grace conquers
my weary soul and thoughts
as divine spirit’s light
enkindles, I’m strengthened
with peace, I stand, extol!
It's a lovely sun-drenched day of clouds and blue sky,
Giving such a beautiful vista on which I gaze.
Two sparrows dancing at opposite roosts catch my eye,
On a large branch in the huge maple at center stage
Distant bells ring out in the distance a melodic peal,
Accompanying the movement of leaves in the breeze.
I see a twin-tower temple with sweet images to reveal,
With such quiet grace it sets troubled minds at ease.
I muse of a sanctuary of inner warmth and grace,
With a scent of roses urging me to follow my nose.
Drawn as by the sensuous smile on a woman’s face,
I begin to presume how the rest of the story goes.
Woman indeed is so wisely and nobly endowed,
Between the pillars of her calling in awesomeness.
She remains her openly receptive self and still proud,
Showing me haven where my weary soul finds rest.
Together we dream of a garden of hope and love,
Living within the comforts of shared pleasure.
As I drink the nectar that showers from above,
I conceived of a supreme realm for all to treasure.
Love being lost
My tears merge with the storm
The cool rain is making me sweat
Don't want to be found
Nobody is wondering
Love being lost
So enjoy the quiet vibe of being invisible
So much of so many that I so miss
Don't want to be found
The mirrors go black in solidified hibernation
Love being lost
The apples receive scars from the falling limbs of aging time
Soaked to the bone and blue throughout my weary soul
Don't want to be found
Everybody is centered on self
Love being lost
Stuck in the past like bloody thorns counting sheep making wishes
Happiness is missing the time machine that I have not the simplest of talents to make
Don't want to be found
My favorite parking spot is wherever and whatever is long since forgotten like unsung trailblazers collecting mummified dust
Lost in aura of interlude
My pharynx is relaxed, soothed
Nebulizing my weary soul
On dreary days tea is my balm
Prayer’s scent like mint petrichor
Yes ,yes I was a precious soul
Turned to a flower that's slowly decaying
My roots are dead and gone
Can only draw waters when I'm praying
The stars allign enough to keep me breathing
but never enough to keep me away from grieving
I'm a question mark in motion when it comes to
the act of living
Sometimes wishing to silence my cardiac rhythm
God's absence is like a faded sunray
The dying little light that saw me through dark day
Oh lord,sinner as I am in my life please stay
They ask who did I lose ,why am I grieving
I lost the only thing I had hope
Entangled to a downward facing slope
Of which I wish to climb
Just for the world to witness that I'm a dime
Yes I'm lonely,but undeserved attention is a crime
So I'll wait on God to renew my weary soul
Make the flower precious again
Return it to its original Image
Restore the hope I lost
Staring at the mirror’s image,
I see what others see;
but can they see the need for love
so deep inside of me?
I hear my laughter just as loudly
as those who see my smile;
but can they hear the tinge of sadness
that lingers for awhile?
My posture mocks a stately stance,
my gait is smooth and free;
but can they see the frightened child
huddled down within me?
Afraid of life’s uncertainties,
unsure of what’s to come;
feigned confidence...a good disguise,
for fear has made me numb.
The routines I have mastered
like a scripted matinee,
but none see behind the curtain
at the closing of the day.
The props, all neatly put aside,
the makeup washed away,
my weary soul sleeps peacefully,
despite another day.
Tomorrow brings another chance
as I wait in the wings,
to take another curtain call
in the drama that life brings.
Save me from myself
From the darkness within
The demons that haunt me
And the pain I feel so deeply
I long for peace and serenity
But my mind is a battlefield
Where anxiety and fear wage war
Leaving me wounded and broken
I seek refuge in distraction
In temporary escapes from reality
But they only offer fleeting solace
Before the turmoil returns once more
Save me from this cycle of despair
Help me find the light within
To guide me out of this darkness
And heal my weary soul
Let love be my salvation
And kindness my compass
Lead me to a place of healing
Where I can finally be free
Save me from myself
And show me a way forward
Towards a brighter tomorrow
Where hope shines eternal.
The River carries words softly,
her rhythm, my cadence,
her flow, my home.
I drift where the stars fall,
their light a map I cannot follow—
only feel.
Deeper now, the River’s current hums.
The Poet has run out of lines—
their ink dissolving into the tide.
Her banks disappear,
leaving only sky and salt,
an estuary too wide to hold.
The River’s lifeblood carries me,
not to drown—but to bear
my weary soul onward—
where breath becomes wind,
and the words to render
never really end.
In a sea of roses, the ashes of your ghost still wander,
breathing you in deeply, I try to pierce through the veils of time,
but to no avail, only a bitter emptiness fills my weary soul.
Fate tempts me, taunts me with the echo of your voice,
in the dead of night, when sleep refuses to be my companion,
the passing time infects my broken mind,
hallucinations envelop me in the sheets that once were ours.
Breathing in your scent, expelling the demons that surround me,
without you, the devil whispers words of temptation in my ears,
fire flows through my transformed veins, a living blaze,
Lilith's fury poisons any trace of humanity left.
Levitating above the bed, rebirth approaches with silent steps,
cutting into the chest, the heart becomes heartless in its beating,
electricity pulses beneath the flesh trembling in the moonlight,
destruction is now at the tips of my thirsty fingers.
Pain begets hate, and now watch as the world burns,
while I become my own martyr, a flame consuming itself.
Your laughter dances like the morning breeze,
A gentle balm that heals my hidden pain.
Your touch, a summer's kiss upon the trees,
Brings life to places cold as winter's reign.
Within your gaze, a universe unfolds,
A symphony of stars that brightly gleam.
In your embrace, my weary soul finds hold,
As if the world exists within a dream.
Each whispered word ignites a tender spark,
A language only hearts in love can know.
You light my path when all around is dark,
And teach my soul the way it yearns to grow.
Forevermore, our hearts shall beat as one,
Bound by the light of love that ne’er is done.
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