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Joanna Marcus Poem
An armor shining I must attain,
Without feeling, sigh or tear, meaningless
Against these shards of pain;
Protect my broken pieces relentless,
Heart armored, my life mundane.
Broken pieces that yearn to be put together
But nay I’ll devoid my heart of love,
Fear of love’s intensity that might and will conquer.
Back into the recesses down deep I’ll shove
Memories, midgets of bliss for never not later.
A seemingly happy castle on air
I’ll build, no valiant knight in armor make me my house disdain.
The doors hard worn by hearts that dare;
Knowing I’ve loved One with all my heart, One my whole sustain.
I’ll love One ceaseless, my heart for once laid bare
Afraid and yet with no desire to touch love’s lair again.
Copyright © Joanna Marcus | Year Posted 2015
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Joanna Marcus Poem
Give me a home far away,
Where a moment of rest is always nigh.
Take me away to stay,
Where commonplace is a peaceful sigh .
Abandoning a world of chaos,
A burden thrown off my back,
A duty that is strung taught, a lost toss;
Free from the webs of gruesome task.
Grant me strength to face another day
Be my guiding light and straighten my path
My fears I pray would now fade away,
As I look to you in perseverance, seeking faith.
Teach me to live life, to love, to fight, to dream
To savor moments both tedious and beautiful
Tears in joy, wistful sighs in sorrow and yet serene;
Content to live for you, in all I do staying faithful.
Guide me Oh Lord, Consume my being, from the depths
Let my fears give way to your strength
Give me your eyes that I may be really seeing,
Give me your love, your light shining from within.
Copyright © Joanna Marcus | Year Posted 2015
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Joanna Marcus Poem
Living in the extraordinary
Hope
Is what blooms in chaos, striving to find the sun in the strangling cover of darkness.
Is an audacity that constantly lights up inside of us, finding sanity in the tumultuous.
Hope.
Is definitive, finding power in the act of defiance.
Is a gift, dreaming the wildly unimaginable in the face of despair.
Hope.
Is the urgency to create, painting the monotonous in streams of vivid colour.
Is the tenacity to act, catching glimpses through cracks in a despairing façade.
Hope.
Is not ignorance, a blinding belief that the world is sunny
But a bold narrative, with visions and dreams amid despondency.
Hope.
Is not a fallacy, attempting optimism with a well-worn cliché.
But an embrace of the inevitable, and yet clamoring for the extraordinary.
Copyright © Joanna Marcus | Year Posted 2020
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