I felt myself in the universe,
It was like the stars above,
Took me in as their own.
I was at home —
I was undisturbed; free.

As I wandered the celestial,
I was embraced by the void,
And loved by the emptiness.
I was at peace —
I was so careless; blind.

And in the warmth of the vast eons,
I lost myself in their touch;
A lonely, quiet death.
I was solus —
I was so afraid; caged.

Infinity was not forever,
By God, did I know better,
Still, I trusted the calm.
I was naive —
I was so hollow; bare.

Nothing became everything to me,
And who I was disappeared,
Claimed by space and vacuum.
It was perfect —
It was what I wanted.

Because,
I was loved by the emptiness.

And so too, was the emptiness,
Loved by me.

She bears and breathes
beneath the burden
beneath bone-deep silence
not broken,
But becoming still
and storing strength.
The eagle watches
with wide, waiting wings,
Does not force the wind
but riding the rough winds
without rushing.
The horse stumbles
but stands,
shakes off soil
and still
steps forward.
And the ant
small, steady,
soft-footed,
finds the fallen
crumb,
and carries
the weight
without complaint.
She gathers herself,
Again.
Not in haste
but in wholeness
Not with fire
but with
breath.

a moth mistook my lamp
for the moon,
and broke itself
believing
the light was love.

Autumn is when I feel
less alone than other times

For when the leaves are brown
and the sky is grey

I feel as though my dark soul
is mocked less by the cruel sunlight

And I can be dark and melancholy
together with nature

- Wyatt St. Dymphna

I dreamt of joy.
I dreamt of achievments.
I dreamt of feeling proud.
I dreamt of happiness.
Nights that reborned in a new day,
I dreamt of cherishing helding high;
I dreamt of the future.

I dream of sadness.
I dream of failure.
I dream of pressure.
I dream of rage.
Nights that are stagnant and rotten,
I dream of tiredness yet not act;
I dream of the past.

I dream of uncertainty.
I dream of confusion.
I dream of my destruction.
I dream alone.
Nights that I am blocked,
I dream of giving up for that is what I deserve;
I dream that I dreamt.

Fighting enemies requires courage
Fighting friends requires bravery
But having to fight yourself?
That’s the combat no one talks about.

Having to fight your own mind against
the most basic thing the body is designed for -
the kind of battle which wins no medals.
Only people on the sidelines mocking the “weak” ones.

No state of the art weapons in this war -
Arms which ambush the attacker itself,
Armour which require trial and error.
A lone crusader fighting all the mutations.

A battle unseen
Even by closest of the tribe
Days, months, years
A struggle I can’t describe.