Born  a child
of the wind
I've heard the ocean
in a conch shell
Just like a man
I've seen an ocean
run away

A  vanguard
wintertide Daffodil
reaches up
towards sunlight,
awakening aneath
sparkling powdered
snow white
on bended knees
and frozen teardrops,
cold yellow petals
pressed longingly
to frosty red ear

the sublime
essence of velvet
and like the ocean
in a seashell,
I hear the moment
of springtime
come by here

harlon rivers ... late-winter ... 2018
Post Script ―

If by chance you've read: "Snowflakes on a Lone Daffodil"
"The Moment  of Springtime" is the companion piece.

Even though the snow got much deeper these past days,
the sunshine has visited a time or two and the forces of nature
bestow a powerful synergy... pulling nascence from winter darkness
into the light

Thanks for reading
spring day,
sweaty sheets,
haven’t looked out the window
for days on end,
forsaken to this bed
like a casket,
still alive
but barely,
dad once said
i’d rather feel pain
than nothing at all,
so i guess i’m feeling
but honestly,
it feels more like nothing
than anything else.
They say that upon someone's last wish,
Darkness caresses and prolongs,
Where once was Light, has now gone to waste,
My heart bleeds and for justice longs,

Monsters are shattered by swords,
Look towards the coming dawn,
They say a beast flanks his tail,
As he has your heart gnawed,

None may rise to the challenge,
Few remain of those heroes of old,
Now death stalks the lands,
Yet within darkness it is gone,

So wail and rest your head on my shoulders,
As I now venture into the night,
For without darkness, light cannot be reborn.
I wrote this on a whim, I've been reading lots of vampire myths and legends and came up with this poem.
you and I,
burn in moonlight
darkling skies of a devil's sleep
a lust for love, attend the desire
for the flame is fiercer
I sit and look at your picture, in pride of place.
I want to tell you how much I've missed you.
How Every Day is a struggle without your love.
When will this feeling leave me?
Until the next time you see me?
Will I be forever blue, living my life with out You?
What if when it passes, I don't know who I am anymore, without the weight of the grief dragging me to the floor?
I didn't just lose you, I lost me too.
I search every corner of my mind because it's you I still hope to find.
Dark surrounds the sun
even when it spread its light
the moment its gone
it makes its presence known
Though the sun reaches million miles
but the darkness is far beyond
will it conquer it?
Kume 1d
I could tell you how lies are my only truth,
And how betrayal is  success’s only route,
But you’ll call me crazy, you who believe in salvation
Without proof.
I like you once believed, in the angels and all things bright.
But for everything, there’s a price,
I paid mine, and I have the blessings for which your heart still cries.

It’s like the devil laughs at me every time I pray,
Because right after I say amen,
I go right back to sin.
Tell me, what is this salvation you speak of,
When all my heart knows now is the darkness that consumes from within?
Enveloping my soul in lust and deception,
Drowning my pure thoughts in anarchy and perdition.

Alas, not all storms can be quelled.
At least, so say the demons in my head.
Yonwato 1d
To not cry is a blessing and a curse
A blessing 'cause it hides your pain
A blessing' cause it shields your grief
But most of all, it is a curse
One that boxes up your emotions
One that leaves you defenseless
One that denies you allayment to grieve
One that let's you seem so strong when you're weak
One that leaves devastatingly flustered.
The kind of mixed feelings you get from the frozen tears that never falls is one that leaves you overshadowed by darkness.
LinaM 1d
Im told I'm fake
Because I try to please everyone
But I cry and I laugh and I forgive
Does that make me fake?
I smile in the halls instead of frown like most
Because smiles spread quickly
Does that make me fake?
I prefer friends over enemies,
Because when I was younger I had neither.
Does that make me fake?
They tell me to be myself,
Because having pink hair makes me too different and I try too hard
So I fixed my hair.
If being fake means helping others,
I'm going to be fake for as long as I can and I refuse to fix myself.
Maybe not a poem but I had to get it out of my system. -L
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