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Between dawn
                             And dusk
This roof space
Is an observatory
                             Of light

Slates fatigued
Squint in midsummer
Cowering
From wavelengths
                             That probe
Illuminating particles
Within shards
Slim and soft
                             Like 6B graphite
Dancing by day
Midst boxes
                             Bound by year
      
I clench a hand
Form a telescope
And peer through the smallest
                                         Aperture within
The translucent part of my body adapts                                  
             To absorb all that reflects within
Emery Feine Apr 6
I was looking for a dream in soulless eyes.

You thought that I was just like you
And milked the light from this star
You sold my brightness for profit
And now I wonder how far you are

I thought that you would give me my light back
But you led me into a fire
Lured me in with ink and a page
And now I'm trapped in a burning cage

I watch the stars in the night sky
The ones I once knew
You crush them down to ash
You sell them out for cash

I wanted to be just like you
But that isn't my goal anymore
I will be so much better
Is that what you wanted, too?

I inherited your soulless eyes
Do you see my dream in them?
"you were born reaching for your mother's hands, victim of your father's plans to rule the world. Too afraid to step outside, paranoid and petrified of what you've heard."
-BLUE
This society is seeming, if you cannot and haven't involve in atrocious thangs you  seem counted out in the society.

_It's more arduous if you're broke. Life in nigh *stuck
lamentation *in  oceans of temptation._
*_

but hold on stronger
not yet the end of whole it, for no
_ matter how goes it,

dreadful night long, there shall always be a brighter day just after the dark.


  Going to reach peak 🗻, speak affirmation,
*Amen conclusion. - C9fm
Life in my community.
It doesn’t matter
how much weight you carry.
It’s about how you distribute.
Pain diffusion
is like sunlight through leaves;
it takes courage
to let brightness pierce through
and kiss you.
So stay with me,
right here,
by your tree roots,
where cyclamen grow.
Hold my hand
like you always knew me.
Forgive my shyness
as I fidget
with toe rings of clover -
I promise;
  I’m less and less scared -
I still love your wildness.
I feel you,
all over.
Eyes,
of Pure Water.
My lack of sharpness
is yearning to soften your edges.
I’m floating above your garden,
weightless.
The ripeness of fruit
that your highest tree bares,
smells like a rose
you delivered.
If we really are here
to mirror,
all I want to do for you
is shimmer.
Mark Wanless Nov 2022
what can never be
arrives in mind a brightness
and is seen by one
theladyeve Apr 2022
i dream of oceans and half moons;
lips against my ear, whispering empty promises;
hidden power dripping between the scars;
forever tattooed on my body;

in the end, i sigh as i finally, finally fully bloom;
no longer a mystery.
Simon Apr 2021
The lamp is now representing itself in the absence of being semi-peaceful. While having the inner-struggle in just simply trying it's best to get by....
After this very truest representation had sold itself to the highest bidder (being its own inner weakness giving into the symptom, that is "giving up"), without so much as a single plausible (enough) explanation...
Things don't become tolerated (very well), anymore.
After all, it's up to the standards of one's own grief to now simplify the very behavior (in their own sequence, after sequence, after even more sequences that have sheer luck tied to them without hesitation for utter pleasurable shame for the results that clutter the very cog in the wheel) that gives freedom in the disguise for wonder. Wonder...that isn't including its own freedom, as that's just another common (filled) sense illusion, now.
It's the very scenario that agrees that it hast to become free...in order to see its own self for what it had become....
Meaningfully speaking, everything up to this very point in time...comes with an arresting degree for silencing the inner willpower of an inner voice that can't (safely, very well) reach for the outside world (and even remotely reach out into the outside world, like...AT ALL...)! And simply express (for the life of itself), its own symptom. Not only a symptom (or two...) But more the very part as to how, or why, or what essentially became of itself...when it started feeling this particular (and more peculiar way...), where it doesn't know how to handle itself, anymore (in that very dire moment for shameful results). Especially the guilt trip that it starts to feel (all the sudden), when it begins feebling itself over such hesitating tip-toeing maneuvering. But what comes (next, anyhow) with so much as a single surprise...is that there's always a certain something, (or certain someone) truly waiting for you on the other side of a spectrum (where you have yet to truly notice in ALL such forming varieties upon the certain specified number of emotions bleeding itself DRY for the appreciation of finding a solution too it's current problem....)
Once you understand this...or more like correcting the wrongs (that had up to this very moment in time, had made you this spiraling short-circuited piece of machinery, or justful faulty technological prowess...) Gives you the very nurturing desire to bid farewell to your own inner strength. Just so you can now have the very pleasure of now purging past this unknown barrier on the other side of this spectrum that has this very certain (someone) waiting for you...that will then of course, give you that single, (when you least expect it...) RESTART! That had been in an orderly fashion ever since the very beginning (when you first started first experiencing this symptom in the first place). A trapped scenario full of crippling sequences of events!
Descriptions, or even visuals are lost...without defining what a lost light (who's very brightness is increasingly going dim), doesn't even have the very means (as of yet) to truly become recognizable of the ("notice of things"), for simply "why" it's becoming this very way, in the first place...?
Leila Nov 2020
A light so soft and tender
Noir has been expelled
Gravel but somehow gentle
Even the stars aren’t this bright  
Lavishly delight
Sara Brummer Nov 2020
On earth, in air, on water,
light is its own essence--
an enchanted dance,
a harmony of rhyme
in quick pearling as on
the surface of a pool ;
Or, it’s slow, expanding
as if some obstacle is in
the way.

Beyond sight’s reach,
light glides, swan-like
or blinks, star-like or
dapples uncertain between
sun and shadow.

A match darts it’s first
white flame, then flickers.
Splashing sparks may
tumble over pebbles or
moon repeat itself
a thousand times.
A translucent cascade
of bright snow illuminates
a winter field ; the gentle
glow of a candle flame
warms the heart.

Even what seems
forever dark as
midnight’s blackest
mood is not immune
to opening to the glory
of light.
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