~~~^♡^~~~


Please sing a song
For woman strong
A daylight reverie
She's moved along
From the madding throng
At last she's finally FREE.

Please lift your voice
You'd have no choice
If you knew this soul
She was a dear
And it was clear
That her spirit's old.

Is it odd she's gone to God?
She was one of few
Who had great wealth
She gave of self
She was born anew

So let us sing
Our praises ring
Of His mercy and His grace
She entered in
Cleansed of her sin

She's in HIS WARM EMBRACE


SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/13/2015

I lost you like a breath to the wind
a moment I breathed you in.

Then just like that I exhaled and you
were lost to me just another spirit in
The wind.

I tried to hold you in, not to expel your
Essence, but when I blinked you were
Gone, and I miss you lost to the winds.

Planetary dance of the
                 Heavens as tears of rock
                                 Fall into flaming oblivion.

Old text messages are the devil
Because they show that one day
it was *"Let's go get coffee together."
And that day led to making out,
behind a shed neither of us owned.
They show that the next week,
you were on your way over
to my house.  
"On my way."
And that day...
oh, god, that day...
I trusted you.
I said no.
My trust was misplaced.
You violated me anyway.
They show that you kept in contact;
you texted me daily for a month after.
As if nothing happened.
As if my life hadn't been torn apart.
"I love you."
"You want to get coffee again?"


(d.d.b)

____________________­____________________

D­o you see a shattered girl,
because I've been trying to tell you people all year,

I'm dying here,

like maybe I was flying around to start with,
but on the inside I'm nothing more then a Moth,

and you expect me to do the things butterfly's can do,

when I can't do more then attempt to mimic there actions,
Following far behind while all the butterfly's migrate,

but I can be miles away from my lover & still smell him from all this way,

because I'm stuck behind butterfly's,
trying to find my way to a better home,

and I will never get to a home where I can be excepted,

every place I get to I am to be greeted with fly swatters,
when butterfly's get loving fingertips to land on as if they were tired,

like they had to run from there death like me,

and everyday I fight for my life,
and the butterfly's live theirs carelessly,

so maybe I can dress in the outer shells of butterfly's that once were,

become the thing all people wanted me to be,
stop smelling my lover from miles the part us,

and let the world control me,

But even when I've given everything I've had,
In, to this ****** idea of a plan of normalcy,

just now you decide to say there may in fact be something wrong with me.

and that when I cut my wing on rose bushes,
so maybe I can feel something better then what you've done to me,

and you try to help me months almost a year after when I am close to death,

by killing me three weeks,
before my life span is up,

**tell me why butterfly's got it so good and moths gotta have it so rough?