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ilia-talalaiPoems
What is important to thee? Be it thine own peace,                            pure and sacred Be it thy sweet rest,                            sacred and pure    Be it thee dances,        prances and sing, through the fabrics of thy years                with grace Be it Love                        pure,                                     and sacred Forgive thine fledging wisdom for misguided yearnings. Its growth is tragic. o'er slow. The pace brings suffering   long before the light of clarity can shine on what thy dreams do say. One cannot dream this shell of existence anew without breaking skin. Cuts and scorns will bleed the soul            like a life laundering leech;                             Yet will heal thee in kind                 - and oh, what mysterious kind it shall be Harken to the old oak voice: "Through those bleak and dark nights Hold,         with passionate patience         and marveling whys. Each tender breath,                            sacred and pure,                                             brings a subtle flourishing                                                      and a light will shine." Time will mend thy fragile frame, and lest you worry too oft (and sleep too little) Harken well this billowing breeze, as unto thee I say:                 "Your heart will rekindle,              Set ablaze by a truth learn'd                                                                pure,                                                                       and sacred."
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Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
Important to Thee
What is important to thee? Be it thine own peace,                            pure and sacred Be it thy sweet rest,                            sacred and pure    Be it thee dances,        prances and sing, through the fabrics of thy years                with grace Be it Love                        pure,                                     and sacred Forgive thine fledging wisdom for misguided yearnings. Its growth is tragic. o'er slow. The pace brings suffering   long before the light of clarity can shine on what thy dreams do say. One cannot dream this shell of existence anew without breaking skin. Cuts and scorns will bleed the soul            like a life laundering leech;                             Yet will heal thee in kind                 - and oh, what mysterious kind it shall be Harken to the old oak voice: "Through those bleak and dark nights Hold,         with passionate patience         and marveling whys. Each tender breath,                            sacred and pure,                                             brings a subtle flourishing                                                      and a light will shine." Time will mend thy fragile frame, and lest you worry too oft (and sleep too little) Harken well this billowing breeze, as unto thee I say:                 "Your heart will rekindle,              Set ablaze by a truth learn'd                                                                pure,                                                                       and sacred."
ilia-talalai
Written by
ilia-talalai
Russian
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
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