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Amber Drake Jul 2014
Jagged memories
Of a broken child
Rip along sunken cheeks.
As the times pour out,
I envy the old me.
Innocence, purity and smiles
Seem lost in photos;
A chapter in a tragedy.
My soul is bruised,
Bettered into small pieces,
Crushed by white stones,
Beaten by selfish hands,
Ripped by boney fingers,
Left scattered for the swine.
Shards of pain
Lodged into the depths of my heart,
Blocking any source of redemption.
The little girl has died,
Left alone is a desert
With her precious body limp and love ridden.
The armies of ice
Destroyed her hopes and dreams,
Severed the heads of trust,
And burned any remaining hope.
I am powerless,
Left to the hands of murderers.
But god has spared me,
Lighting a candle
To submerse the evil in light.
God’s hand has lifted me up,
Sweeping my shattered soul together,
To give me a second chance,
Bestowing dreams upon me
That I thought I had lost.
God spared my broken soul
To fulfill a divine mission;
To inspire others to believe in themselves.
Despite what I have done,
His love is unconditional,
Filling me with his redeeming grace.
Amber Drake Jul 2014
Lively bright buds
Blossom towards the sun.
Frayed ends-
Of silk pedals
Hug the stem.
Saturated hues of orange,
Capture the eye’s glance.
Marigolds dancing;
Falling from the sky.
As I put a flower in your hair-
The extenuating orange
Shows your glowing face.
Marigolds of love,
Twirling in a fit of ecstasy.
Raining beside lover’s feet.
Luminous colors,
Paint true love
On a canvas of grass;
Creating natural beauty.
Marigolds dance;
As your intoxicating being-
Walks gracefully by.
I want to make love to you,
On a bed of dancing marigolds.
Fragrant smells of spring;
Soothing soft pedals
Protect our entwined bodies,
In a sea of grass, marigolds and skin.
Sweet, passionate, bright love
Is as bold and sweet,
As the golden marigolds.
Amber Drake Jul 2014
As I step out of the crowded train of reality,
The dirt of sorrow clings to my ankles.
Ragged clothes drape my body,
As hostile hands grip my arms.
Confusion captivates my mind,
The unknown brings fear.

Crammed like cattle,
Through metal thorn’d gates.
Deafening voices roar unfamiliar words,
As rough hands grab all;
Separating men and women,
Forcing to conform to a line.

The cold chill of the air pierces,
As mud cakes beneath my feet.
Anticipation and fear infiltrates…
As I look ahead and the line separates,
Right and left, the only choice;
As mothers scream for their daughters.

Shoved to the right, questioning the left,
Watching the lefty’s last walk.
Shriveling screams reverberate,
Watching ****** smoke climb.
Fortunately escaping death,
But longing to already be gone.

A monster masked by medals,
Strips my rags and shoes,
Leaving me cold, numb, and violated.
As I continue the line, he quickly picks the flower.
Overwhelming tears drain my face,
Vulnerably pressing forward through thickening mud.

Another beast with dull blades,
Cuts all my hair down to the skin,
Shaving away all beauty,
Leaving me only a bar of soap.
Pushed under rusted pipes,
Trickled with chilled droplets.

Overwhelmed by unfamiliar feelings,
Pushed away from the bathhouse,
A rucksack is packed over my head,
Over my shivering frame.
My name, identity and worth are stripped,
Replaced by six black bloodletting digits.

As time goes by, some are gone.
Lying in the wooden egg carton.
Matchsticks in dampened boxes,
Soon loose their spark,
As the flesh seems to disappear,
Leaving only brittle bones.

Ducts are dry from empty reservoirs,
The human seems dead.
Animalistic hunger possesses my mind,
As hollow stomachs rip with wanting.
The demon guard whips as hunger pains,
Starving the innocent matchsticks.

One false movement ends with lead,
Winces of pain punished with leather.
Enduring bloodied feet and cut up hands,
My boney body pushes the wheelbarrow,
Throwing lost souls into a meaningless grave,
Causing me no remorse.

My vacant existence leaves me broken,
Making me question all I have known.
My empty black eyes lost all desperation,
My envied physique transformed to a corpse.
Heart slowly pumping, making me deathly alive.
The soul-less walking skeleton.

My Auschwitz, my Auschwitz;
Breaking every cell and soul.
Isolating me from the outside.
Ironically destroying rather than protecting.
Disillusioned guards enforce,
Forcing me to do the inevitable.

Dizzying pain and uncertainty,
Making me aimlessly wander.
Perception highly surreal,
When nightmares seem true.
Melting towards death,
Body too weak to move.

A soldier’s screams seem like wind,
His kicks and punches feel like pillows.
Brown mud and black boots mesh together,
Reality turns to slow motion.
A black stick aimed at my head,
I smile and…
Black.
Amber Drake Jul 2014
The darkest of dark,
Thicker than tar;
Has me wrestling with dark spirits.
So much effort to move,
Trying to run away and disappear-
To escape the subversive destruction.
Oozing blackness-
Making its way into my blood,
Slowly turning my skin an ashen grey.
******* in the smoke,
Drinking the blackened devil,
Opening the gates of hell,
Leaving me susceptible to dark suffering.
Writhing in the pits of despair,
Drowning in a thick sticky liquid,
Drawing back in repugnance,
At the chemicals that control me.
The white crystals burn my soul,
Transforming my insides into darkness.
Evil darkened spirits encircling me,
Torturing each and everyone of my thoughts,
Making me suffocate in insanity.

Soon it gets to be too much,
Loosing all you have reassures;
Being nothing but a lost, gaunt soul.
God hasn't begotten me,
I closed the doors shut,
I burned the bridges that leads to the light,
To destruct my broken self,
Feeling so deserving of the upmost suffering.
Humbling myself to admittance,
Opening the blackened shutters,
Letting the light in just a little.
This effervescent light is thinning this tar,
Making it easier to wade through life,
Creating hope;
Making it possible to reach the first rung
To the ladder of recovery.
Tattered and rugged,
I feel too ***** for this light,
But the light will shine,
Even on the dirtiest of souls.
This light is so full of love and hope,
Filling me with contentment,
Making me feel worthwhile.
My blackened soul
Must be cleansed,
Scrubbed to the raw skin.
Time will be a factor,
Because the tar is so thick,
Embedded in my pores.
But the light will shine forever,
Healing all who reach for it.
Amber Drake Jul 2014
Thin crystal petals,
Crisp icy leaves,
Slender glass stem.
Crystalline prism-
Rainbow reflections emanates.
Fragile beauty rests on a plane.
Content, safe from rough adversaries.
As this delicate rose sits,
People marvel at its exquisite beauty.
A velvet pillow cradles this delicate wonder,
Untouched innocence,
Precious clarity captivates all.

On a bright sunny day-
As the crystalline rose glistens,
A dark figure emerges.
Disgruntled hands reach,
***** prints grasp.
Innocent glass is violated.
Rough rigid handling,
Selfish pre-meditated notions,
Destroy exquisite beauty.
Fingers slip,
As the precious rose travels downward,
Shattering screams reverberate.

Past regal beauty,
Is now shattered, scattered-
Across a vast desert.
Shards of a past rainbow,
Pieces of a previous soul,
Blanket the chilled granite.
Perfection, influence and purity lost.
Jagged leaves, pedals and stem-
Sprinkle the world below.
Fiery chasms lick volatile crystal.
Waiting to melt the “worthless” remains.
Anticipating for the rose to submit defeat.

Miniscule weak slivers turn to self loathing.
In pieces, one’s pain causes others pain.
To pick up the pieces and reconstruct-
Cannot be done alone.
Though ****** blemishes scar youth,
Sparkling beauty is still present.
Self realization seems unreachable-
Some parts are so far away.
External forces must sweep reality together-
Gluing delicate shards to wholeness.
Clarity is absent,
Cracks overwhelm the rose.

Beauty is found in imperfection.
Imperfection is reality.
Cracks can break the strong,
All crystal roses are vulnerable.
But with the harsh reality,
Breaks make.
Roses are beautiful-
But behind the most beautiful is some pain.
Thorns may *****,
But crimson vibrance adds to character.
New planes of vibrance emerge with a crack,
Creating a broken beauty.
Amber Drake Jul 2014
Young, tall, and closed;
Potent, red, and soft.
Prickly, menacingly beautiful stem,
Razor edged leaves,
Baby soft pedals.
Rose buds are meticulous;
They are fragrant,
But they aren’t ready.
Seasons come to an end.
Changes occur,
And the rose blossoms.
Pedals reaching for the sun,
Yearning to fly-
As the sun rolls over the sky,
And disappears over the horizon;
The beauty wilts-
Cold ice soon blankets the stem.
Cracking, shriveling-
The pedals fall one by one.
Soon the stem is bare and ugly;
And the sad, dead rose is gone.
But the pedals;
Thought shriveled and dry-
Carry their sweet scent forever.

— The End —