Speak not of forever,
Rarely be that one’s endeavor.
Speak not of prince charming,
Be neither prince, nor charming.

Speak of Bittersweet battle,
Of scarred hearts, torn and tattered.
Speak of walls built, born of battle.
Of touch, aching need, they did shatter.

Speak not of fleeting lust,
Of fiery frozen lustful touch.
Speak not of souls fearful to trust,
Of tender, wistful dreams turned to rust.

Speak of brave, hopeful enduring love,
A kind gifted from heaven above.
Speak of what transcends lust.
Of woken souls learning to trust.

Be this written upon sand and stone,
Be this a blushed, gritty story to show.
Be this sewn between two hearts,
Be this a story of love, blood and bone.

© 2018 Dell Anne Raye
All Rights Reserved

This year she lost everything.
No, not materialistic things
What made her who she was.
Her laughter use to be infectious
Her love was wound tightly
Her caring for others was strong.
Yet, that's all gone.
She now is filled with rage and anger.
She is consumed by this dark cloud.
She doesn't laugh like she used to.
Her love is distant cause she doesn't want to cause harm.
She cared to much sometimes, that's what ruined her.

She lost many things this year.

Losing a bestfriend of 15 years.
A companion that loved her through everything.

Figuring out who people truly are and what you mean to them.
Everyone eventually forgets and gets caught up in there own lives.

Yet, she lost the light at the end of the tunnel.
Her light vanished as she is wondering aimlessly through the tunnel to find her hope.

She's been searching for herself for years, Every year her hope dwindles.

One day she hopes to find herself again.
She misses the way she always made others laugh.
She misses loving people because they deserve it.
She misses helping others through there dark times, because she knows they weren't alone in there darkest hours.
Like she was in hers.

There is hope.