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leeaaun Nov 2023
I was on a journey to find my core,
Through heartaches deep, in search of something true.
A soul adrift, emotions all askew,
In quest of worth, I longed for something more.


Through winding paths where shadows seemed to creep,
I sought for treasures in life's vast array,
Yet each pursuit left me in disarray,
As yearning eyes welled up with tears to weep.


In the final dusk, clarity emerged,
A whisper soft, a truth that set me free.
The love of Allah, a balm, a key,
Now, in His grace, my troubled heart has surged.


Remembrance of what's vital, pure release,
In His love, my soul finds lasting peace.
The lesson I learned in pursuit of importance, our hearts misled,
Messing the threads of truth, chasing illusions we bred.


If you inquire of true remembrance,
I'd share the extract—life's secret recipe.
Remembrance, a tapestry woven in the mind,
Threads of cherished moments, in our hearts entwined.
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2020

Love is a woven dichotomy

The sweetest of fruits and most merciless of storms

On the heart of each palm, pain-salted tears

we all have, share and hold

Under the and sun-kissed days

and moon-soul nights

We choose to maintain our stories

while fighting against the tyranny of life

and its harsh game of glass chess

For which none of us can truly escape

but play to soon become skilled against

Strife's master

So with scarred skin and wounded hearts,

We trudge through rings of Hell

for the mere test of Heaven on Earth



The ever beautiful dichotomy of love is something I always tend to ponder...
Stay safe and well, everyone!
Much love,
Lyn x
LC Feb 2020
my love for him
is intricately woven
into my body.
the loose ends are
tied in a perfect bow
on top of my heart.
ranveer joshua Oct 2019
her hair swayed in the wind,
delicate and gentle

her eyes were like beads of honey,
just like amber and chestnut

her spirit soared like an eagle,
graceful yet powerful

she was like 'summer linen',
woven intricately;
flying in a field of sunflowers
annh Sep 2019
Lend me your biography; your innermost-ness,
Your secret shame; your hidden struggles,
And I shall gift you words.

A language woven with silk,
Borrowed from my own unravellings,
Frayed edges, now mended.

Let me help you thread the needle,
So that you may quilt your scattered pieces together,
And, in time, find yourself whole again.

‘Words are singularly the most powerful force available to humanity. We can choose to use this force constructively with words of encouragement, or destructively using words of despair. Words have energy and power with the ability to help, to heal, to hinder, to hurt, to harm, to humiliate and to humble.’
- Yehuda Berg
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2019
the woven intercept

the crescendo soft ascending,
commandeers our riveting,
we do not surrender, taken, nonetheless,
our deference to an elegant wand wave,
combo hopeful and all encompassing, the helplessness

both well understood

the progression higher, steady on,
a rapture going to a defined ending,
concluding voyage occluded, for now,
but the setting sun rays us a plan, a path,
teasingly, soto voce lips moving, “this way”

follow on the unsteady water

restraining resistance failing, flailing weakly,
it is both early morning and late afternoon,
the light warms, but each, a timbre different,
the pitch and intensity tho one and the same,
yet, order confused, still, we are given-in

giving in unwillingly

absolution unrequested, but awarded anyway,
shelter from the storm of safe and warm,
children begin first school day, but adults
know better, beginnings full of risks unforeseen,
the season changes, normalized, but would be refused

if we could

the waiver offered, the woven intercept read,
emotional intelligence so fragile, on and on,
sidekicks, lovers, connected by a dotted line highway,
the space between permitting anything we want,
but contradictories say, wanting everything, impossible

but the viable solution singular

how do we leave it then? we leave it thus, clarified,
separation is a kind of attachment, voidable, when,
kissing comes calling, from all around the world,
the crescendo ends, we each have read the intercept,
it concusses, interpretations differing, yet we don’t care

lying through embracing lips


our tune is a mismatched matching,
a vision ending and yet anew hatching,
this is love, understanding, undefinable, undefeated,
a changeling definition, paths possessing multi-endings,
loving is the unceasingly, desirable imperfect struggling

unique, singular just like everyone else’s

9/4/19 9:07am

nml
(she'll know)
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