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Goodnight to the child who seems wide awake.
Rock-a-bye baby who’s lost in the waves.
Sleep tight to the girl who can feel the ground shake.
Listen well to the song you will take to your graves.

Let the half-moon embrace you in silvery light,
While invisible winds dry your tears.
Let your souls shine in heaven and brighten the night,
And the stars melt away all your fears.

Farewell, little ones, now we bid you adieu,
‘Till we meet on the road to the sky,
And the wings we have damaged are finally made new.
But for now we must tell you goodbye.
There are hearts that break
in silence, with tears
that nobody can see.

So maybe,
                just maybe…


Some tears demand
to be written by the poet's pen,
so others can find beauty
in that which makes us cry.

Maybe,
           just maybe…


The tears of the poets' pen,
unveils the beauty
of love and pain
giving comfort to others
that they’re not alone.

And then again
maybe,
          just maybe…


There will be times
that nobody
will understand your feelings…

Write them anyway
because they are still
so **** beautiful!!*

~
I have returned
To the land of the living
After all life have perished
To see all traces of existence
Time and space, gravity and love
Without the restriction of our limited vision
To see the imprints of our touch and impressions
Laid out in front of me in its infinite and eternal presence
Every interaction, attraction, mutual and unrequited
Left its mark, like the trails of a snail
Now visible to me in perfect clarity

I could have ran to the beginning
And walked through every moment to the end
Seen life for what it truly was for all creations

Yet, all I wanted
Coming back at the end of time
When time cease to exist
When every being, every moment
Will never again cease to exist or change
Was to find that thread
Between us
And see whether it was connected
At the very moment of sight
When I saw you for the very first time
And ever since
Tugged and pulled
At every hint of longing
Transforming me with sculpting pain and tears
And tore away my fears

And see that it was never just my hopeful Imaginations and creations of the mind
That the threads of every twinge
Every pull of my soul
Had been there
Always there
Still there
True and real
Between every you and me
I have been reading Lovecraft recently to inspire me and pull me back from a wordless abyss.

Inspired by Lovecraft, among others.
that list of things to do
hangs like a view filled
with heavy grey clouds  

you watch & wait for
the bird that will make
the first tear that will crack

open the light with its flight
& flood the gloom, restart a
body, factory, city, awaken

it from its misery & allow it to
see what could be
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