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 May 2016 lloyd britton
Wolfy
I never felt so dead and alone
As woods were bare and birds had flown,
Hate filled this sweet and quiet eye
As I stare this anger towards the sky,
I dream the hour of death draws near
But childrens laughter rings my ear,
Hope starts blooming in my heart
So I'll look to heaven as I depart...
I guess he was right
I’ve walked on fire and thorns
Forgotten what the ground feels like
Every step I took were upon my wounded soles
How does a caged bird know to fly?

I rattled my gates every day
They were strong, metallic and I wasn’t strong
Every lift off was in vain,
How foolish was I to think, to the sky I belonged?

I, like a mother for her child, wanted more
To see within my veins, my being flourish at the mere tune
Every note was becoming a part of a song
How quick was I to dream of this music as a boon?

I feel that rumble inside me
My hunger, anger and desire upon my own pyre
Every day I wish for that first day again
How can I ingrain my liberty from this quagmire?
Ever felt so guilty about having done something you shouldn’t have done? How do we overcome such guilt? How do we forgive ourselves? Every crack of dawn and every approaching dusk, we fear being reminded of our wrong doings. All we want to do is forget that it ever happened. Sometimes, we live every single day with a constant reminder of such things and feel so lost yet liberated that the truth is out in the open. We feel so caged yet freed from the burden of bearing a hidden confession. We feel so ashamed yet lucky to be given another chance to once again become that person we know we want to be. We feel so neglected, undeserving of trust and at the lowest point of self-esteem yet we feel the power of our prayers would give us another life to live it like we could never again commit such a sin.

This poem emblazons the message underlying in our struggles to surmount our better selves from who we used to be. We know we will conquer our hardships and can see ourselves on the greener side of our own emotional quotient but let’s not forget how many doubts, fears, questions, rejections, isolation and punishments it takes for us to climb in order to stand right at the top. That top spot is very much ours, we very much deserve it, and we have every single step from the quagmire to the sky to credit for our liberation.
 May 2016 lloyd britton
Mahwish Z
When I had my death
I kept my life on bedside table
and it continued to appear in front of my barren eyes
Chapters of sorrows and regrets
came over
and over
verses of sadness and remorse's
fell again and again
ahead of my dark image!


Night, outside was dark
thick, foggy, cold
inside, the life was
getting cold
freeze and thin

I tried to ran away,
to escape myself
from this pain, from this agony of coldness
by throwing a blanket on
my dying body
but
death approached me
with fast steps and caught me

I saw its face, full of disgust,
and dark with blood on its flesh
all over!


I shouted and shouted
I screamed and screamed
but no sound came
No hands came, no wonder happen
And I quietly
let the death embraced me
in that very night!!

-2009-
 Apr 2016 lloyd britton
xuans
a scab
 Apr 2016 lloyd britton
xuans
a protective mechanism;
unsightly, yet all you need
to keep out deadly passions
some may call is masochism
yet it is the fear that i'll bleed
from digging at the lesions
of a love long lost
and then i met you

as if you were a blanket
shielding me from the hurt
this world can cause
only your warm touch blank it:
all the pain that has been inflicted
oh, how i long to be yours.
I haven't been writing in a while, so sorry!
The end was quick and bitter.
Slow and sweet was the time between us,
slow and sweet were the nights
when my hands did not touch one another in despair but in the love
of your body which came
between them.

And when I entered into you
it seemed then that great happiness
could be measured with precision
of sharp pain.  Quick and bitter.

Slow and sweet were the nights.
Now is bitter and grinding as sand—
"Let's be sensible" and similar curses.

And as we stray further from love
we multiply the words,
words and sentences so long and orderly.
Had we remained together
we could have become a silence.
All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
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