Consumed by a fire
That burns for every single breath
Every single beat
Of every heart
Fending off death
Not the death by an accident
A ******
One's age
Death by suicide
Walking into the Devil's cage
You think everything's fine
When in reality you're dying
What you need is to quit shying
Away from the one who's been prying
Into your heart
The depths of your being
Only to save you
From the death that's been clinging
Each act cleverly placed
Your motivation erased
So that you would stop the chase
And fall flat on your face
But you make sure
That you land on your knees
Right at the feet
Of the one who set you free
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 12:26 PM UTC
An overwhelming sense of bewilderment.
My eyes are masked with the lies.
The hurt,
The betrayal,
Again, I have to become this person
All the anguish left in disguise.
Distortion.
My views so utterly coiled.
I try to smile,
I attempt to forget,
But this pit of a wound continues to boil.
Battered and bruised,
My heart has become.
The verbal beating,
The memories constantly repeating,
A never-ending rerun.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 7:12 AM UTC
So many decisions
So many actions
We don't take the time to look
Realize the impact
A tear, a smile, a laugh
The heartache
A heart-break
The pain
Embrace the power
Control
We try to set the pace
Don't let the rage overcome what life you destine to lead
It only takes so much
So little
Such a large impact
We find ourselves mute to the outside world
Becoming blind, not seeing whom we are affecting
Becoming deaf, not caring to listen to anybody besides ourselves
You may bring out a smile from the one who does not speak, walking down the hall; head down, hoping nobody can see their hidden colors
You may bring out a laugh from the one who keeps their cool, serious, lacks a noticeable humor
You may bring out a heavy flow or hurt and tears from the one who speaks with such kindness, carries themselves with grace, lives life, and is always seen with a grin across their face
You may bring out a glare of hate from the one who tries to get by, friends with everyone, and sits aside not having a voice
Such an antique of a moral
"Treat others as you would like to be treated"
Yet such a meaningful and consequential impact
If only every person lived abiding by this
Our would is overflowed with the concept that we don't need to think about anyone other than ourselves
Morals
Situations
Right and wrong
Everything is affective
Either you make someone very joyful and contented
Or
You have weakened the spirit of another
The decision
Held in the palm or your hand
Find it deep inside yourself
Make the right one
We are all equal
United
It may be we are one
But each individual plays their own part
Every one of us responsible
Realization
The impact
Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 8:47 AM UTC
I sing about what makes me happy
And what makes me stronger.
The fear inside has disappeared
It lies within me no longer.
I sing about how blessed I am
Each and every day.
I sing about the life I’ve been granted,
My Lord, by my side, to stay.
I sing about all the thanks
My God deserves to hear.
I sing about what He’s given to me
All of my eighteen years.
I sing about the strength and love
That has been so graciously provided.
I sing throughout my darkest times
Because I’ve been so graciously guided.
I sing about accomplishment
And what I’ve overcame
I sing about my passion
And pray in Jesus’ name.
I sing about things that will get me through
The day and push me further along.
I sing about my motivation
And how I’m still standing strong.
I sing to glorify Him
With every ounce of strength.
I could sing for hours on end,
There’s no limit to the length.
I sing for a mighty breakthrough
And a revelation.
I sing to see the walls fall down
Where I can ground a new foundation.
I sing for my miracle
I’ll sing it anywhere.
I sing for what I so long have yearned for
I’ll sing it through my prayer.
Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 8:43 AM UTC
A thought in the mind with an intuition of the soul.
Why?
Why do we write?
What we write.
When we write.
The cause.
The emotion.
The start of it all.
A large door backed up with emerging traffic.
Are you wanting to let others through?
Revealing your mind,
Your ultimate motive.
Was it euphoria?
That feeling when nothing made you feel higher.
No person or thing could take you down from your throne.
For one moment in time you could pass on that stimulation.
By bringing together, pen and paper,
You've began--
No turning back now.
Your mind-set back to that very moment.
Was it anger?
That feeling when nothing has made you feel so irate.
You've reached your boiling point,
Red with fury.
Your brow out of alignment.
Your utensil lashing out on paper as if it were your own mouth.
Screaming to the world at the top of your lungs.
If only they knew.
Was it nervousness?
That feeling when you just want to crawl up in a ball and die,
Hide back in your little corner.
Just writing about it sends beads of sweat down your forehead.
The time the whole world has eyes on you when your fearful eyes are so very blank.
Was it anticipation?
That feeling when you've almost reached the peak of the plot.
You know it's coming.
Chills are sent down your spine,
Wanting to share this excitement with everone surrounding you.
Was it sadness?
The sorrow, pain, and suffering.
You weep and want others to feel as if they were right there with you.
To build a lasting compassion.
To gain a sense of struggle,
A sense of not knowing if it will ever get better.
To feel for you.
Finding the reason for that long face through your writing.
Was it the kind action of lending a hand?
Through your thoughts,
Your voice on paper.
To touch lives.
To embrace a being without a single touch.
To listen without any attention.
To comfort without showing your physical affection.
That passion.
That motivation.
That satisfaction of someone coming up to you and saying, "Thank you."
Was it your mind purely running wild?
Story after story.
Thought after thought.
Creating characters by the hour.
Minute.
Second.
Its racing had reached no end.
One solution,
Slabbing it all on paper.
Who else to listen, but an audience.
Too many thoughs and ideas to keep inside.
Cerebral overload.
Was it simply an experience?
Yearning for the reader to be right there beside you,
At that very moment in time,
At that place,
With that person,
Saying those things,
With that look upon their face.
That feeling,
In your gut,
With that person,
At that place,
At that moment in time.
Was it knowledge?
To inform the reader possible facts.
Statistics.
Dates.
Times.
Your background.
How you became a writer.
The motivation.
The incentive.
That gut-wrenching feeling,
Deep inside of you,
Screaming to get out.
Pounding the walls of your mind to escape,
To let others in.
What you write.
When you write.
Why you write.
Why?
A thought in your mind with an intuition of your soul.
Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 8:41 AM UTC
Every time you enter a room
Your beauty it just simply blooms
It’s seen by every single person whom
Is near your light and are consumed
You open your mouth to the largest smile
So bright, so white, so worthwhile
It may pause during trials
But once it’s back, it can reach as far as miles
Your purpose so great
Such a difference you make
With everything at stake
Blessings your way continue to await
You live each day with meaning
While the world is still weaning
Off of everything so demeaning
You take a stand for what’s right and continue intervening
Such powerful storms
Yet the woman inside continues to transform
You have yet to give in and conform
As your heart still stays warm
During all the agony and distress
You always confess
The sins you possess
And convictions nonetheless
Among all the mistakes
The misjudgments that quaked
Your heart it would break
As others’ would ache
Your testimony will reign
While others only try to admire and attain
The strength you have always maintained
And all the people’s lives you have changed
Throughout all the depths you have come from
The souls for Jesus you’ve won
For when judgment day comes
You’ll hear, “Daughter, job well done."
Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 8:39 AM UTC
Chosen.
Strategically picked.
Special.
Called.
Not to be weak.
Nor act as cowards.
Not to be afraid.
Nor hang our heads downwards.
He who died.
Breathed His last breath.
Gave his one and only life.
So that we could live.
So that we could sin.
So that we could stand up and fight.
Called.
To stand against.
To be remarkable.
To be on the front line.
Called.
To overcome.
To become transparent.
To take the struggle head on and shine.
Given a chance to do something.
To run.
Head on.
And dive.
Into what you truly believe in.
What you deeply crave.
For what you, as a child of god, wants to thrive.
Let your talents bleed into opportunities.
Take charge.
Show the world what it’s missing.
Prove to them that our God is bigger than large.
Be brave.
Take hold.
The experiences you’ve suffered from.
Be bold.
Think back to all the pain.
All the suffering day after day.
Realize that He went through all that.
And now it’s fixed so you’ll be okay.
Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 8:34 AM UTC
The fragments of my broken heart surrender to the one who can piece it all back together. So torn and worn, and aimlessly written on. The one who can erase it all and help me start anew. He only waits patiently for the day that I choose to surrender. That day that I choose to lift my arms up to Him and plead, 'Take it all.' That day that I choose to believe in someone so much bigger, so much wiser. That day that I choose to follow the path so graciously laid out for me by the one who loves me the most. Would I change or take back the trials I have taken on? No. I ask myself what in the world would make me want to throw away what has only molded and shaped the young woman that stands before the world and the face of the Lord every single day--nothing comes to mind. What is left of my battered heart, holds on to the light that still flickers. The flame dwindling, sparks no longer to be seen. An overwhelming amount of ashes piled up, built around the walls like an electrical fence, closing me in. As the flame still is warm, my body embraces the damaged source of euphoria. I embrace what has only made me stronger. I accept what has put me to the ultimate test. I love what has pushed me to find meaning. I am inspired by what has equipped me with brand new tools and resources. I thank the enemy for fighting a good fight. I commend the enemy for working so fervently. I say goodbye to this source of evil, once and for all.
Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 8:18 AM UTC
Emotional bending
Never ending
Controversy
Who to be
What to leave
An anthem to never be forgotten by the world
A constant whirl
Never to be remembered as just some girl
A girl with no passion
Some person so attached and
Careless with her actions
I yearn to become
A girl with nothing left undone
With only some
Doubting my desirable outcome
Very few understand
My plan
Because I can
I will succeed
Billions of seeds
Planted by me
A beautiful garden
Not an easy thing, it's hard and
There is no bargain
I want more
An opened door
I want people to look past
This mask of mass destruction
To create a new introduction
A world that cannot be ****** in
To a place of suffering and pain
Where you lose the game
Nothing left to maintain
Now you see the light
You've fought the good fight
The world's anthem--your testimony
Not sorrow, but euphony
How many times I fell
Deep in sin, at the gates of hell
But how I got right back up
Realized I messed up
I never gave up
I want to be the proof
That living right is no spoof
To be a light to others without bother
To live as God's created sons and daughters
To reap what you sew
Continue the flow
Of a lantern that glows
To keep the fire burning
Still be willingly learning
How to stretch your whole being
Always full of meaning
Continuing to see
That there's more to life
Far beyond strife
A legend in the making
A legacy up for taking
The enemy constantly shaking
Afraid of that one girl
Who she turned out to be
How the world's anthem is her testimony
Aug 17, 2010
Aug 17, 2010 at 7:08 AM UTC