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We are not going where we've been
You can't step in the same river twice
Running for the idyllic
We will only catch indifference
And it's not the walk in that water we hurry after
But a different walking - on the surface - sans the wet
There is a precipice approaching on the path we continue to
The wise in their turning will not stop our flow

We are not going where we've been
But the wise before the fall
Will turn around
Place their best foot before them
And begin again
We have overshot the mark and are now running amok.

God, you put me through a refining fire,
Where I stood, you desired to enquire.
After burning away the junk and ****,
One ***** drop was all I could brag.

Oh God, it’s easier to trust you when
You pour out blessings again and again!
But what about the times I wish to forget?
How can I trust you when I’d rather reset?

When everything is out of my hands,
When I’m caving under the demands,
That’s when I need you most, Lord.
I guess I call out only when I’m floored…

Yet even when I don’t trust like I should,
Oh God, You are still forever good!
I’ve felt your Spirit now more than ever,
Prying my thoughts apart like a lever.

Procrastination looks good,
But only on paper.
In hindsight, I knew I could.

Suffocating in atmosphere,
My own thoughts – toxic vapor,
I can’t breathe through the fear.

But what am I fearing?
Strangers? A storekeeper?
Really? God, please start interfering.

My thoughts like a machine gun,
“No, no, no…” I’m captive by this kidnapper,
But We say “No,” to “No” – revolution begun.

Together, We make a plan to conquer,
Shake off this annoying stupor.
Into the darkness like a spelunker.

I can’t lie, it was dark,
But over time, the struggle will taper,
Because a blaze comes from a spark.
Cyan Aug 9
The potential you possess
in every single breath,
you steady and suppress,
until there’s nothing left
but a faint and dainty
of the song
inside your chest.
Carl D'Souza Jul 30
Should I ‘respect’ a person
because they have the power
to harm me?
Should I respect a person
because they are able and willing
to help me
achieve my joy and happiness?

I look around and see,
All these things piling up.
Such a stressful relationship,
This world has made with me.

Everything’s broken,
Everything needs fixing.
Everything’s failing,
Everything needs a solution.
Everything’s old,
Everything needs renewing.
Everything’s falling,
Everything needs picking up.
This cursed world is dying!
And I can’t fix all it’s problems!

My career is built on fixing;
I find solutions, I slave for renewal,
And I reset the recoverable.
Forever, as long as someone is paying.

It never ends…

But what’s it all for?
Who really cares?
I’d bet not even the millionaires.
Lord, how do I keep going anymore?
under the delighted sky, baby-blue like his eyes,
he holds my trembling hands

his sunshine of a smile warms the cold anger in my blood, makes my heart skip pebbles within me

"true pain is a like a paper cut"
"you don't know that you're in pain until it hits you," says he

he lets me vent out my poisonous emotions
to save me, to make me happier, to absorb my pain

"that's how much i love you," says he as he embraces me warmly

Get yourself a man like mine.

Just kidding. I don't have a man.
annh Mar 12
And if you are in any doubt as to your ability,
To effect a change upon this world,
Look no further than a pool of rock water,
Disturbed by a single drop of rain.

Now imagine a torrent.
Nika J Feb 6
Blatant words of lost entirety
Gushing as the heart speaks in truth
Entity mimicked wishes
Becomes curse cue
Thumping evil desires ravishes souls hidden dire needs
A messenger of deciet falls upon lap with broken wings
Lies become truth driven and believeth one shall
As the agony of ticking no longer represents time
But a field of panicked heartbeats dodging what's heaven sent
Prayers fall on deaf tone
Leave a message after the beep
Gone like that joyous scent which held the air before
Past tense? Nothing more
A tocking opposite of happiness
Opposite of pride
Opposite of kindness
Rain trickling
Tickling ones skin with cold compressed shivers of vague comfort
Blankets becoming tight no inhale
Licking at the darkness sweltering inside
Empty eyes travel to one shade above
This is the world one resides
When one no longer believes
In Love
Ever lost the ability to love? Feeling betrayed in ways you cannot give or get back? Feels colorless and empty doesn't it? But comforting in its dull wasteland, you begin to LOVE where love doesn't exist...
Dean Russell Sep 2018
Imagine your hand is
one hundred days older
Than the hand you use now.
Look at your hand.

What will that hand hold,
in one hundred days from now?
What will that hand have push away
that changes the next one hundred days?

Your hand is younger than it is now
than it will be in one hundred days.
In one hundred days, this hand will
mould and shape and change each way.

This hand is the age you are now,
and this hand is not eternal.
This hand helps you to write and pick up
what you need; reflexes from danger, sometimes.

One hand in one hundred days may be
marked, with a burn or scar or a tattoo.
The other hand may be softer, because
you wore gloves or moisturised by choice.

Or maybe this hand in one hundred days
Will be blistered, from harm you fought with wonder.
Maybe this hand is a blessing forgotten
And you reach for another coffee.

So why are you so focused
on what happened one hundred days ago?
The hand moves, clenches, rests, changes,
like time too.
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