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Silence echoes.
It reaches
       for you,
that sound of silence.
Let it reach.
             Let it echo.
                       Let me wonder.
What does silence
              sound
                       like?
The sea.
So many colours.
   Green.
       Grey.
           Blue.
All in between.

So many emotions.
   Rage.
       Calm.
            Peace.
All can be seen.

Reflections in
      mirror-black water.

Raging winds
      over restless waves.

Freedom!

Ever changing is the sea.
This is a poem I wrote about 5 years ago and recently rediscovered. Figured I'd share it.
StormriderIX Apr 21
Idle days thinking...

All the time we
Make mistakes.

Time heals us.
Is it true?
Roses have thorns.
Evidentially the same applies to time.
Doesn't it?
I'm tired.
StormriderIX Apr 21
A poem can take flight with our troubles

But sometimes instead the weight doubles
We carry something for so long
And suddenly we don't know what's going on
Dreams can shatter
It feels like nothing will matter
We try to move on forward
But we realise we feel cornered
Things happen yet time stands still
Time passes yet it all stands still
Life goes on.
StormriderIX Dec 2020
One-Two-Three
One-Two-Three

Life
was simple
once.

We would
go out,
friends.

One-Two-Three
One-Two-Three

War
suddenly came
knocking.

We would
stand together,
partners.

One-Two-Three
One-Two-Three

Death
was so
swift.

We were
torn from
each other.

One-Two
One

Our
magicians' waltz
was over.

I
miss you
already.

One-Two-Three
One-Two-Three

Three.
Two.
One.
StormriderIX Sep 2020
My mind is an endless void.
In the midst of it is an obsidian cliff.
Abstract wisps of thought swirl around that central cliff all the time.

I am drowning.
I am barely hanging on to the cliff, to myself.

The thoughts keep attacking me, not one at a time.
Tidal waves of thoughts are crashing down on me, trying to drag me under.
Away from my sense of self.
Into that endless void.

Into endless void...
A glimpse into my mind palace at its most chaotic.
StormriderIX Jun 2020
Summer is difficult.
It's beautiful, warm, rainy,
absolutely lovely.

It's so difficult to deal with it.
I want to go fishing, go swimming, go running barefoot;
I want to do all those
summery things.

All the things I used to be able to do.
If only I still could.

Tough luck, dearie.

I just have to make do.
I can write.
I can sketch.
So that's what I do.

And the summer keeps being lovely.

I listen to the rain dancing
on the roof.
I see the sun paint the sky
in all those absolutely magnificent colours
as the sun sets and rises.

The summer keeps on being lovely.
I live by the ocean. During summer I keep being reminded of the things I could do before I had my first epileptic seizures. It *****.
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