“Step”, she says,
“One more step.
Drown out the voices of
'Quit and forget”.
Press on, dear girl,
So as not to regret
A journey unfinished,
A hanging debt.
Hair of the sun and
Eyes like the night,
Of all that is common,
She had not a fright.
Her shoulders – strong, hands – worn.
A soul that has weathered much,
Much scorn.
Down the center of her being,
She was ripped,
She was torn
So it seemed,
Since the day she was born.
Soul of the flames,
Mind like the sea.
A friend to life's games
Is not at all, she.
Her path, seemingly even and wide
Lies rough, jagged, and narrow.
Challenges tug from side to side,
Tossing questions of every tomorrow.
One night, while walking along,
She gradually slowed her pace
Upon realizing part of herself
Was scathed during that race.
So it seemed, she wrapped her destiny
In high strung reams.
These challenges often caused to ponder.
One night while surveying the valley,
She heard not a single trace
Of that all-too familiar thunder.
Lifting her gaze, the young warrior Muttered in escalating passion,
“I find myself again in the stars,
For all below had me bound.
Where I often felt the cold iron bars,
Now traces of freedom can be found.
The stars, in their greatness cry, as does
The belligerence of this soul -
Silenced by lips in nothing except
A night sky as black as coal.”
Coursing through those words -
Deep suffering,
Through the gateway of the soul -
Liquid offering.
Unannounced and long-awaited,
They ran down, reviving her tired face.
And once more she accepted the night’s
Cold and somber embrace.
Commenced, she, her trek again
With a force upon the ground
That exceeded all men.
Each step quickened and soon
Became a run.
That run yielded not,
Until set the next sun.
Now halt,
Only to briefly rest.
Looking up, what caught her eye:
The final result of giving her best.
As surely as those spirits rose,
So came the sun from its
Seemingly endless doze.
Beaming upon a mountain so high,
Her banner finally allowed to fly.
As the rays redeemed that blissful face,
She forgot the dark of the mountain's base.
Disbelief slowly departing,
Defeat so surely parting.
With a force that exceeded all else known,
She drove her banner into the peak.
Far from previous sighs and groans,
Such was felt
As far as one could seek.
Every surrounding head turned
To admire the wonder above;
Every surrounding heart burned
With passion most only dream of…
To this day, her flag remains
By the grace of her beautiful Creator.
And next to it lie her chains -
Fallen at the hand of her Savior.
Ascensus, your path on earth remains
Constant forevermore.
As does the marks from those chains
That shook you to your core.
“Step”, she says,
“One more step.
Drown out the voices of
'Quit and forget”.
Press on, dear girl,
So as not to regret
A journey unfinished,
A hanging debt.”
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 12:29 AM UTC
If silence came upon
The heart’s cry for more,
I would be an unstoppable force.
But this dead end and it's disregard
Renders me halted in my course.
To confess,
I want you like I want a drug
To numb the nagging pain.
Through valleys my being is dragged
And so adds to every stain.
I live and work in the shadows of
Discontent.
Here, I am not myself,
I do not belong.
And unto my heart is much disdain
As silenced becomes my song.
I want you like I want relief
From this rugged, jagged
Path I walk.
Relief, however or not so brief,
I do not care, for I desire to
Escape this sad normality.
Chasing, reaching, futility
'Til every dawn.
Again, I command myself to
Forget and move on.
Ludicrous...
To consistently pursue the ones
Who fall short of repaying regard.
Still, I let down my guard.
Surely this fool deserves a bit better
Still I tell myself the contrary -
That I am not good enough,
Until such lies are believed.
Until I stand at another
Dead end.
To the unforeseen, vain affections are sent
In hopes of receiving its equal.
Over backwards, becoming bent.
To this misfortune, heart to lend...
To another dead end.
And once again that nagging question:
Why such a pattern?
Dragging morale into
Secession,
Delivering not pleasure but
External concern.
It dances about, continuing
On and on...
Extinguishing hope of cultivating
An intimate bond.
On and on,
Another dead end.
Dear soul, quit your seeking!
For through the cracks of heartache,
Precious time is seeping.
And glorious gloom...
Once again creeping.
Still, in constant longing I am...
Oh, what I would give
To not give a ****
To give all I own
With desire also taken.
Affection, sweet affection -
Hydration to the soul...
The sweetest infection.
Where to escape this longing,
Please, point the direction.
An end must come to these daydreams -
A hand stroking my hair,
Waking up no longer alone.
Hand against skin so fair…
Cast my daydreams to stone.
Failure to be emotionally resilient -
An ongoing lament.
So weather the storm,
Steady on course!
Fall for no one,
Feel no remorse.
Play no card, take no form.
Conquer the task of
Becoming the storm.
If silence came upon
The heart’s cry for more,
I would be an unstoppable force.
But this dead end and it's disregard
Renders me halted in my course...
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 12:21 AM UTC
Forever lives the rhyme
Of the days we served our time.
Myself and my sister -
Like the mental disrupt,
Hands rubbed into blister,
Tolerance waiting to erupt.
Guilty until proven innocent
By those who once walked in our shoes...
In health was placed many a dent
As we tried but could only lose.
Here's to her: my sister, my friend.
From the past we deter;
To the past, induce end.
Used and abused,
She finally met relief.
Apart from the system -
The incomparable grief.
Blood, sweat, and tears
Were the least of our fears.
For we could only dream
Of better future years.
We were the lowly... The bottom.
Seemingly forgotten.
We will never forget
The ultimate discontent.
We shall never discount
The bits of hell we were sent...
Our God-given creative nature
We have suppressed for far too long.
We simply had no choice but to
Silence our song.
We toiled together, yet worlds apart.
Across the world taking cover
And dodging fiery darts.
Our bond as fellow fighters
Not even the seas could part.
Who knew the wise could be seen
As that of anything but smart?
Glancing down at my trousers
Worn at the knees,
I have visions of her suffering
In port and over seas.
For this uniform she wore
Before her time ashore.
Now I carry it on,
Taking on more than ever before.
Used and abused, she finally met relief
Apart from the system -
The incomparable grief.
For her, that is over, and I am overjoyed.
For I was starting to think
That her optimism would be destroyed...
My time will come but for now,
I toil.
At times, I swear I can feel my blood
Boil.
Still...
The great peace that God brought my sister
Is the same that came as I would miss her.
Thus, forever lives the rhyme
Of the days we served our time.
Myself and my sister -
Like the mental disrupt,
Hands rubbed into blister,
Tolerance waiting to erupt.
Guilty until proven innocent
By the ones who walked in our shoes...
In health was placed many a dent
As we tried but could only lose.
Once again, here's to her:
Fellow Sailor, fellow fighter.
It brings me much relief
That now her spirits are lighter.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC