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Andrei Marin Apr 16
Conquer now, little by little,
work hard and harder, just don't become brittle,
hard work devoid of true rest, will surely derail your quest,
you aren't the first or the last, to go through hardships,
remember the past,
many before you have come and gone,
so what makes you think,
that you are the one?

It doesn't matter,
do your very best,
so you'll be able to end,
without regret in your chest,
that you didn't try, or were afraid to act,
we are all meant to die, and that's a proven fact,
no, you might not get rich, or have stadiums packed,
but your hearth will be right, you were brave in the fight.
The true "be strong" poem
Andrei Marin Apr 16
Wings of stone will weigh you down,
Not a shield, just a lie,
Forge from love, a thorny crown,
Wings of faith, to lift you high,
Hope will bind you to the sky.

Heart of stone will make you weak,
Won't protect you, just a lie,
Each day passing, it'll turn you sick,
But even now, you still can't cry,
In the end, don't ask why,
Your heart will shatter, freeze or die.
This is to all on the path of broken hearts... Sometimes it is healthier to accept the pain and go through it rather than hardening your hearts and hiding away.
Andrei Marin Apr 15
There is a sign in the sky,
the winds are changing,
flags are set to fly,
people are raging.

Stars are falling down,
people receive visions,
everyone is fighting for the crown,
marching divisions.

And as the dust is rising,
among the cries of war,
there comes a lone traveler,
never seen before.

He speaks of the future,
of destruction and death,
he says this could be,
humanity's last breath.

His words are wise,
will no one heed, but,
the people are enraged,
they attack with speed,
yet the traveler is gone,
he is nowhere to be found,
but on his way to others,
of minds more sound.

In the meantime,
the wars go on,
brave warriors proven,
yet still none won,
the battle of futility,
of empty pride and shame,
hoping all along,
someone will remember their name.

Why are all people so proud?
Why are all so desperate to stand out from the crowd?

Is it because they're afraid of oblivion?
The traveler asks himself.
They seem to want to become another book on the shelf...

So they sign their name in fire, blood and steel,
forcing thousands of innocents to kneel,
thinking by this they will be remembered as great conquerors, chosen by destiny,
truly they are wanderers,
soon to be forgotten...
This is just a rhyming prophecy/ballad leftover from a story I'm writing.
Andrei Marin Apr 15
Conquer now, little by little,
work hard and harder, just don't become frail,
hard work devoid of true rest, will surely derail your journey,
you aren't the first or the last, to go through hardships,
remember the history,
many before you have come and gone,
so what makes you think,
that you are the special?

It doesn't matter,
do your very best,
so you'll be able to end,
without regret in your heart,
that you didn't try, or were afraid to act,
we are all meant to die, and that's a proven thing,
no, you might not get rich, or have stadiums packed,
but your hearth will be right, you were brave in the battle.
So this is an exercise in poetry: I have intentionally ruined this poem of mine by replacing the key rhyming words with non rhyming synonyms.
Try to find the replaced words in order to make the poem rhyme again.
Have fun : ))
Andrei Marin Jul 2019
Let your  heart cry, but shed no tear,
Lift your eyes, don't you fear,
Sorrow isn't evil,
Unless you keep it near,
Breathe in peace, and move on dear.
Just jamming
Andrei Marin Jul 2019
End of the line,
What a marvelous phrase,
To let it sink in,
As I lower my gaze,
Into my almost empty cup of tea,
There's no more time to spare,
Wondering, who was I meant to be..

Time has passed,
Bittersweet,
Filled with confusion,
I wish I'd dealt less,
With silly illusion,
And focused more,
On Who is above,
He gifted me purpose,
And the power to love.

I've run the race, I wasn't very fast,
I just thank God, I didn't arrive last,
He always guided me back to the path,
With infinite patience,
With mercy and grace,
I was able to run, to finish the race.

Now I'm ready, to empty my cup,
To finish my tea, to lift my head up.
Imagining myself and my feelings near the time of death, I'm pretty sure this is how I'll feel; thankful and peaceful, but also sorry for lost time.
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