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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
I was born into darkness, a world full of lies,
Sold by the one meant to shelter my cries.
In the hands of strangers, my worth was defined
By the hunger for drugs, my body confined.
A child turned slave in my uncle’s cold home,
A Cinderella with no fairytale to own.
Cooking and cleaning, no dreams to explore,
Just a ghost in their house, always doing more.
But school was my freedom, my breath in the night,
Where I could escape, even just for a while, and feel light.
Then came the man who saw nothing but skin,
A baby maker, a punching bag for his sins.
I wore his bruises like chains on my soul,
And soon I was lost in a world with no goal.
Homeless, with babies I couldn’t protect,
Forced to give them up, my heart wrecked.
Living on the streets, the sky my roof,
Despair wrapped around me, relentless and aloof.
I chased every high, every fleeting escape,
Found solace in bottles, in wounds that would gape.
Promiscuity a mask for the pain I denied,
But each thrill was a dagger, cutting deeper inside.
State to state, man to man,
I thought I could run, but never outran
The weight of my past, the shadows in tow—
Each new place, a prison where I couldn't grow.
But now I stand in the mirror, alone yet free,
Learning who I am, who I’m meant to be.
Outside the chaos, the violence, the noise,
Beyond all the brokenness, I reclaim my voice.
I am not who they made me, nor what they designed,
I am love, I am light, with a heart that’s kind.
Through scars and hurt, I still rise above,
A soul that refuses to give up on love.
For I am a survivor, a phoenix in flight,
And I’ll shine in this world, no longer afraid of the night.
I am beauty, I am strength, I am more than they knew—
I am me, whole and true.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
Beneath the sunlit crown of June, I came alive,
Where the days stretch long, and fireflies thrive.
This is the month of tender bloom and stormy skies,
Of golden warmth, yet shadows where truth lies.
June, for love, for loss, for longing untold,
Its story whispers in hues of green and gold.
The air is sweet with elderflower and summer's start,
Yet heavy rains can cleanse or break a heart.
I love its mornings kissed with dew,
A promise of life, fresh and new.
But hate the heat that clings and binds,
The weight of sun that scorches minds.
I’d change the pace of time in June,
Let twilight linger beneath the moon.
For here, the world moves fast and slow,
A paradox only June-borns know.
History breathes in every breeze,
Of battles won and lives that seized
The spark of hope in summer’s glow,
While fleeting moments softly go.
June is for beginnings, blessings, and boldness bright,
For chasing dreams bathed in soft twilight.
It's for freedom’s call and fearless leaps,
For prayers whispered where the willow weeps.
Its spirit lies in the hum of bees,
In wildflowers swaying with the trees.
Its song is the laughter of children at play,
The pitter-patter of rain at the edge of day.
But June carries secrets in its folds,
Of fleeting youth and stories untold.
Its fear: the fleeting time it grants,
A dance that ends before the dance.
Yet joy is born where it begins,
In the endless hope its sunlight spins.
For those of June, like me, are born to see
The beauty in brevity, in what will never be.
So here I stand, a child of June’s breath,
Balancing life, love, and death.
A month of light, and storms that loom,
A soul in bloom beneath the moon.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
The air is crisp with the promise of winter, but the earth hasn’t yet yielded to the frost. Bare feet press against soft, damp moss—each step grounding me in a world that feels alive despite the stillness. Pines tower above, their needles murmuring secrets to the wind. A faint scent of sap lingers, mingling with the earthy perfume of fallen leaves. My breath puffs into clouds, joining the mist that clings to the ground, curling like a shy spirit. Somewhere, a bird calls—a sound that cuts through the quiet, then dissolves. I close my eyes and let the weight of the world slip from my shoulders, surrendering to this sacred pause.
Years of storms echo in my chest, but here, beneath these ancient trees, I am reminded that chaos cannot last forever. There is beauty in the rebuilding, in the quiet rhythm of healing, in the gentle rustle of pine needles above.
needle whispers sing
branches cradle the still air—
I exhale the past
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
Old Frosty once danced through the square,
With a scarf that flew wild in the air.
But the sun came in view,
And he melted—boo-hoo!
Now his top hat just sits in despair.
Rudolph, with his nose all aglow,
Led Santa through blizzards of snow.
But the elves gave a cheer,
When they spotted reindeer—
With hot cocoa to warm up the show!
Dear Santa was caught in a bind,
When he left his gift list far behind.
So he guessed on the toys,
For the girls and the boys,
Hoping none of the kiddos would mind.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
Behold the world, encased in trembling fear,
Where whispers choke beneath a gilded chain.
The cries of truth fall mute, unheard, unclear,
While tyrants feast upon the meek in vain.
The streets are rivers, flowing red with plight,
As hunger gnaws upon the soul's frail thread.
The flames of greed consume the faintest light,
And silence wreathes the dirge for dreams long dead.
Yet, in the shadowed corners of despair,
A spark ignites, defying night's cruel reign.
The poet’s quill, a blade both sharp and fair,
Cuts through the veil to free the world of pain.
Rise, wordsmiths, rise—your gift divine bestowed,
Let justice bloom where truth has long been stowed.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
I no longer chase the fleeting breeze,
Nor hold too tight to falling leaves.
What flows, flows with grace and ease,
What crashes, crashes—I'm at peace.
I’ve learned to let the river run,
To honor both the moon and sun.
No longer fight against the tide,
I walk with life, arms open wide.
For in this dance, I’ve come to see,
What’s meant for me will always be.
No force, no push, no desperate plea—
Only space for what’s meant for me.
In stillness, I have found my way,
To trust in life’s unfolding sway.
I hold what stays with gentle hands,
And let go of what breaks or bends.
So let it flow, let waters rise,
I’ll meet it all with open eyes.
What’s meant for me will come in time,
I move in rhythm, soft, sublime.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
In the shadow of Christmas, I stand, frayed,
Where chaos once danced, now only I’ve stayed.
It was never a season of peace, of light,
Just the storm of their voices, the weight of their spite.
The tinsel, the laughter—so foreign, so cold,
A hollowed-out ritual, a story retold.
Family gathered, yet I was erased,
A ghost in the silence, an empty space.
Hate wrapped in garlands, resentment in the air,
Words sharp as ice, cutting through the air.
They closed the door, turned away from my cries,
Leaving me to freeze under winter skies.
And now, each Christmas, I hold the chill,
Of a family that shattered, of hearts grown still.
The joy they promise, a cruel masquerade,
A dream that died, a memory decayed.
But here I stand, scarred yet whole,
Fighting the darkness, reclaiming my soul.
For though the cold has a way of marking,
It cannot bury the fire still sparking.
So, I'll face this season, no longer undone,
Learning to breathe in a world without one.
And though the frost still clings to my bones,
I’ll find my warmth in the strength I’ve grown.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
From the moment our paths intertwined,
It felt as if the universe sighed in relief,
As though every star had waited patiently,
For your light to cross into my orbit.
In your presence, my heart beats softer,
Not out of weakness, but in reverence,
To the beauty that exists in your smile,
And the kindness you carry so effortlessly.
Your eyes hold a language I am learning,
One of warmth, depth, and wonder.
Each glance pulls me deeper,
Into a world I never knew I craved.
It may be soon to give these words wings,
To name what blooms so fiercely inside me.
But know, with every unspoken syllable,
They linger in the air between us,
Softer than a breath, stronger than a promise.
You hold my heart—
Not as a fragile thing to be handled,
But as the core of who I am,
A gift freely given, without condition,
To the one who makes it beat anew.
If the future is a song yet unwritten,
I hope your melody fills every note.
For now, let these words wrap around you,
A quiet echo of all you mean to me,
And all you will ever mean.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
Today we celebrate not just a year more,
But the laughter, the joy, and the love we adore.
Through thick and thin, you've stood by my side,
A constant, a blessing, my compass, my guide.
For every laugh that chased clouds away,
For listening ears at the end of the day,
For lifting me up when my spirit was low,
I’m grateful to you more than you’ll know.
May blessings surround you, may dreams all come true,
May this year bring joy that’s perfect for you.
Good vibes and love on your path may flow,
For the friend you’ve been, the love you show.
Happy Birthday, my friend, my brother in soul,
Thank you for making my heart feel whole.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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Lunarya Mornelithe Poem
From the fires of my fractured past,
I emerge, reborn, unbound at last.
In the wreckage, I lay, skin singed and torn,
But from each scar, a new strength is born.
Chaos once whispered and thundered within,
Carving caverns deep under my skin.
I stumbled and fell on a road cracked wide,
Learning to walk with shadows beside.
Learning to unlearn the echoes that stayed,
The voices, the doubts that life had laid.
Reclaiming the pieces left behind,
Shattered and scattered, but wholly mine.
I rise from ashes, ember and coal,
Burned by my history, healed by its toll.
In every flame, a flicker of grace,
Rebuilding my spirit, reclaiming my space.
Words flow freely, a river unbound,
Each syllable whispers what I’ve found:
Strength in the broken, power in pain,
A phoenix reborn from life’s cruel flame.
Copyright © Lunarya Mornelithe | Year Posted 2024
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