Awake
Heavy eye lids
Red eyed
Sleepy much
I should just
Sleep
Shut these eyes
Dream away
No nightmares please
Do not haunt
My subconscious
I need rest
Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 4:54 PM UTC
Scorching,
scalding,
sun set stalking the skin,
dry days,
dust-dazed,
cracks carving deep within,
yet the air hangs heavy,
already, steadily wet,
packed in thick humidity,
nature’s quiet threat.
Heat waves,
haze-blaze,
shimmer, slither, sway,
mirage mirroring warnings in the white of day,
the horizon holds its breath,
tense, complex,
you can feel the summons… nature flex.
Clouds crowd close,
slow, low, looming,
dark-barked masses silently blooming,
intense,
immense,
pressure pressed in the sky,
light dims slim…
dusk draws nigh.
Then,
winds whip, wild,
restless, reckless,
trees bend, send signals,
breathless,
and sudden,
sharp,
no gentle cracks,
the sky splits open,
thunder attacks.
Downpour pounds,
profound, unbound,
rain drums the dust into darkened ground,
lightning,
brightening,
violent veins of light,
stitch the torn fabric of the night.
Thunder rolls,
deep drums in the dome,
iron-voiced echoes shaking bone from bone,
hailstones,
hard, shard-cold,
descend,
truth in the impact, sharp at the end.
Raindrops rush,
hush,
then roar in sheets,
millions of liquid, rhythmic heartbeats,
ice-cold showers,
power in release,
cool fury falling, fierce relief.
Such the paradox,
fire to frost,
searing breath to mercy tossed,
from suffocating, waiting, weighted air
to roaring, pouring answered prayer.
Nature never whispers balance,
she performs,
through blistered calms and breaking storms,
fierce,
clear,
atmospheric art,
the sky’s wild rhythm…
the earth’s raw heart. 🌩️🔥
Feb 17
Feb 17, 2026 at 7:28 AM UTC
Sometimes the storm outside,
mirrors the storm within,
and the release is everything.
Scorching hot
the sun leans heavy on the bones of the day,
dry days cracking the lips of the earth,
yet the air… thick
packed in humidity,
a silent sweat before the storm.
Heat waves shimmer like mirages of warning,
nature stretching,
flexing
summoning something ancient from the horizon.
Clouds gather.
Slow.
Dark.
Intense.
An intimidating dim dusk
folds the light into bruised silence.
Then
Winds blow wild sermons through the trees,
and suddenly
the sky cracks.
A violent hymn
heavy downpour drumming the dust into memory,
lightning stitching fire across the heavens,
thunder rolling its iron voice
through the ribs of the world.
Hailstones sharp as shaken truth.
Raindrops millions of urgent footsteps.
Ice-cold showers baptizing the burning ground.
Such is the paradox:
from blistering breath
to frozen mercy,
from suffocating stillness
to roaring release.
Nature does not whisper balance
she performs it.
Fierce.
Unapologetic.
Alive.
Feb 17
Feb 17, 2026 at 7:23 AM UTC
When I think of how your fingers may have touched her
I wonder if she felt your grip
On her shoulders
Her legs
Her waist
Her wrists
And I wonder if I still feel your hands the same way as I used to.
We watch re-runs in bed
There's canned laughter in the background,
Tittering away as I lay beside you.
There's an undercurrent in the swell of voices
It hums insistently beneath the sound
Of promises made in the dark
When I strain my ears to hear what they're trying to say,
I hear them.
They're saying,
you're a fool
you're a fool
you're a fool
Feb 17
Feb 17, 2026 at 7:21 AM UTC
I want to travel the world,
I want to see the world—but not participate.
Nothing more than a ghost.
I want to float,
up into the mountains,
sit on benches on cold mornings,
watch the sunset on a summer day,
from the hilltop, my perch
and just watch the stars,
and listen to the faint sounds of the city.
I lie on the soft grass atop the hill.
Just one more sunset in a lifetime of them.
But it feels different—more real.
I stargaze,
letting my worries trickle down into the cold, damp earth.
The moment is perfect.
But somewhere below,
in the city,
my name
is called.
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 12:19 PM UTC
I thought I’d finally reached the shore,
Where the waves of salt don't sting no more.
I mistook the silence for a prayer,
And the lack of breath for mountain air.
I built a house of frozen glass,
And watched the seasons blur and pass,
Convinced that if I felt no pain,
I’d finally mastered how to reign.
But there’s a graveyard in the chest,
Where every passion went to rest.
I called it "calm," I called it "still,"
A victory of the iron will.
But peace is a river, moving and bright,
While this was just a long, gray night.
I wasn't healed; I was only cold,
Trading my silver for leaden mold.
It’s easy to live when you’re hollowed out,
Safe from the fire and safe from the doubt.
But a heart that is quiet because it is dead
Is a heavy price for a quiet head.
I called it "freedom," I called it "release,"
But God, I was wrong...
I just kept calling numbness peace.
Michel Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE"
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 4:20 PM UTC
The frost is thick, the air is sharp and thin,
A brutal cold that settles in the bone.
The world ends here, where shadows all begin,
And every light we ever loved is gone.
But let the winter howl and let it bite,
I’ll find you where the frozen rivers part.
I’m carrying a different kind of light,
The stubborn, burning engine of a heart.
We’ll shed the weight of every earthly fear,
To navigate the void, the black, the deep.
If no tomorrow ever reaches here,
Then I have found a better way to sleep.
I’ll meet you where the galaxies collide,
To play the lovers' game, we used to know.
With nowhere left for ancient stars to hide,
And nowhere else for us to ever go.
I’ll hold your memory like a jagged blade,
Until the red of Mars is underfoot.
A kiss to seal the promise that we made,
In soil where only phantom fires took root.
The silence is a predator, it’s true....
It waits for every heartbeat to subside.
But every breath I save is meant for you....
I’ll meet you on the other side.
Michael Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE "
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 6:44 AM UTC
The hammer falls silent, the engine goes cold,
The final accounting of what has been sold.
A breath leaves the body and vanishes thin,
As the world on the outside stops looking within.
The colors all bleach to a silver and gray,
As the anchors of gravity crumble away.
No bridge to the future, no path to the past,
Just the weight of a moment that’s built to be last.
The shadows are hollow, the light is a wall,
There is nowhere to run and there’s nowhere to fall.
The secrets you guarded, the lies you held tight,
Are stripped from your skin by the edge of the night.
The ledger is settled, the debt has been paid,
In the quietest house that a mortal has made.
One second of truth..... in a kingdom of stone,
Where you finally stand, standing... you stand there alone.
Michael Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE "
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 9:25 PM UTC
Pain left a signature.
Look at my scars;
you’d swear I got scars because
the wounds healed.
But it still hurts in my brain,
near the apex of my broken soul.
These scars are a reminder not to
trust or love again.
I took the lessons like a heart attack.
You’d love the old me; I wonder how he’s doing.
Old scars bleed when memories vivid.
Now you know why I despise déjà vu.
“Stop asking questions if you’re not lookin’ for an answer,” they said.
“If it’s broken, use it as it is,
and leave it as it was,” they said.
These scars been talking lately.
These thoughts—I mean demons—been leading me through a dark path.
I am made of consequences of my
old scars.
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 9:23 PM UTC
How Did I
Get Here
Hmmmm
Cannot quite remember
How I got here
Ahaaa
Guess I remember
I am here
Quite a story
You better have a humorous ear
Here I am
Battle scars
Wiser now
I tell you
Happier
Stronger
Grateful
My lessons
Timeless
This me
For keeps
Genesis
Exodus
Continua
Nexus
Comprende’
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 2:22 PM UTC