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christian-l-bixlerPoems
The flowers are swaying, deep in the hollows of the vale, violet in the shades of twilight. I sit against a boulder, there in the center, etched with the marks of an age forgotten, and think. A world teeming, cities filled with the foolish and the wayward, men laid low, by the seductions of corruption; and am I not the worst among them? I am halved, I say, split in twain, divided between the pure and the putrescent, the wholesome and the foul. I had lost faith. Life a blur of conflicting desire, weary I fell, desiring only nothing. Death touched me. I was flying.... I saw my life, terror, rage, sorrow, confusion, pain. All roiling and screaming and laughing. But amid the turmoil, small and quiet, a small center of peace resided, oblivious to the darkness, and within were the seeds of joy and happiness, peace and silence. Rest. I saw, and in the realization, I fell. I awoke in darkness, but I could see the light. It led me here. Here to ponder, and to heal. And to remember.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
To Remember
The flowers are swaying, deep in the hollows of the vale, violet in the shades of twilight. I sit against a boulder, there in the center, etched with the marks of an age forgotten, and think. A world teeming, cities filled with the foolish and the wayward, men laid low, by the seductions of corruption; and am I not the worst among them? I am halved, I say, split in twain, divided between the pure and the putrescent, the wholesome and the foul. I had lost faith. Life a blur of conflicting desire, weary I fell, desiring only nothing. Death touched me. I was flying.... I saw my life, terror, rage, sorrow, confusion, pain. All roiling and screaming and laughing. But amid the turmoil, small and quiet, a small center of peace resided, oblivious to the darkness, and within were the seeds of joy and happiness, peace and silence. Rest. I saw, and in the realization, I fell. I awoke in darkness, but I could see the light. It led me here. Here to ponder, and to heal. And to remember.
Inspired by Walt Whitman, a poet.
christian-l-bixler
Written by
christian-l-bixler
26/M
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
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