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eliana Jun 18
If you must go, then go for a while
Remember that first step is a hard traveled mile.

To learn what lessons life has in store,
You must be willing to open each door.

Don't be afraid to experience something new
For each experience will be a benefit to you.

Never live your life in the past
Enjoy every day as if it were your last

Mistakes you will make along the way
Learn from them, and you'll be okay

Set your goals high and strive for them
As long as you try, you'll never be condemned

Be kind and respect the people you meet
For they may be the ones to make life complete

Be sincere in everything you do
And treat others as you wish they would you

Whatever you do, make sure you're content
For the last thing you want is something to resent

So if you must go, then go for a while
And when you return, return with a smile.
I have had a  rough life of lot of negativity... but I am trying not to circle myself around people or things that bring me down anymore. With each new day that passes, I'm slowly learning how to let go and let God handle it.
eliana Jun 18
Every scar has a story.
What will mine tell?
What will come of this
when I’m better, when I’m well?

I want my scar to tell
of how I’ve overcome,
of how I made it through,
of where I have come from.

I want my scar to whisper
about the pain I faced,
about this very hard time,
about the marathon I raced.

But mostly I want my scar
to speak of something greater
I want it to shout
about my living Creator.

Let my scar be evidence
that there is a loving Lord
who fought my scary battles
and on whose wings I soared.

Let my scar proclaim
that all things work for good,
that by myself I couldn’t
but with my God I could.

Let them take a look.
Let them peek and see.
My scar shows God is great.
It points to Him, not me.
i have many scars over my body but soon i will be having knee surgery so this is dedicated to that scar. God loves you❤️
Keegan Jun 17
They ask where we go when the breathing stops
when the lungs grow still and the hands fall open.
But nothing in nature is lost,
only changed.

Your atoms, forged in the cores of stars,
traveled billions of years to make you.
Each carbon thread in your chest
once belonged to a forest,
a comet,
a lover’s whispered breath in ancient dusk.
Energy doesn’t vanish it shifts.
That’s the law. Thermodynamics, first and final.

You were never just skin and thought.
You were borrowed stardust,
held together by delicate electromagnetic songs,
a fleeting arrangement in the symphony of entropy.
So when your heart slows and your neurons dim,
the song doesn’t end.
It just passes on
into roots, into rain, into flame.

You’ll feed the trees that cradle new nests.
You’ll drift in the ocean’s salt kiss,
become part of someone’s laugh,
the warmth between clasped hands
on a night when someone needs reminding
they are not alone.

The mind yes, it’s complex:
trillions of synapses,
patterns folding into patterns
like galaxies inside thought.
And still,
consciousness remains a riddle
even the brightest minds can’t fully name.
But if it is energy
a field, a wave,
then who’s to say it doesn’t echo?
Resonate?
Return?

I like to think
you become a language the universe still speaks
in wind through grass,
in quantum fluctuations,
in the silence before someone says,
I miss you,
and suddenly, they feel you there.

We do not vanish.
We reappear.
In form, in feeling, in frequency.
Every goodbye is a redistribution
a love note sent across the fabric of space,
waiting to be read
by someone
who still believes
we are all
one thing
reaching for itself.
Kyla Jun 16
till the instant I sleep,
from the moment I waken
my God, oh my God
I feel so forsaken
Ancient empires echo hear,
In deep space,
The sounds of far history,
Bleeds in near.

Energy traces from long ago,
Microwaves left from genesis,
Far in the star sea lies a trail to God,
Or an omen of future death.
In space we can still record ancient microwaves left from the big bang, they seeming warp and corrode time. They may even be the final resource we to achieve time travel!
You told me you were trying.
I told you about the time
I threw up so hard I started praying.
I saw stars in my hair
and thought they might be angels.
But it was just the acid.
Just the light.
Just me, alone again
in a bathroom that never loved me back.

You didn’t say anything,
and that said everything.
You texted “sorry”
like a magician pulling shame from his sleeve,
then disappeared
like a good lie.
I stopped asking you
to prove yourself after that.
I just started watching
to see if you ever would.

Maybe I made the whole thing up.
Maybe you did say something.
Maybe it was kind.
Maybe it was cruel.

Maybe the light flickered
because of bad wiring,
not heaven.
Maybe I was just sick.
Maybe you were just tired.
Maybe none of it meant anything.

But then why
do I still dream in that fluorescent color?
Why does the silence still have your shape?
I built a chapel from our last conversation.
Tried to make the ache holy.
But I was the only one kneeling.
And no one wants a martyr
who won’t shut up.

You said I was unwell.
I said, Amen.
You said I was always bleeding.
I said, Isn’t that what makes it a miracle?
Because if this isn’t a resurrection,
then I’ve been dying for nothing.

I gave you the ugliest parts-
even the bathroom prayers,
even the version of me
that asked God to make you gentler.
You said, “I didn’t ask for that.”
I said, “Exactly.”

You weren’t the end of the world.
You were just the earthquake
I canonized.
The tremor I learned to waltz with.
The reason my mouth still tastes like salt
and I call it grace.

So if God ever comes back,
I’ll know how to greet him:
on my knees,
already emptied.
a fluorescent ghost story. a poem about devotion that rots. built from bathroom light and second chances that never came.
Lord Aconite Jun 15
I fought.
Every second of my life
Etched in pain.
I faced it.
I won.
It changed me.
I learned.

I unlearned the so-called truths,
Every sacred teaching
Of life.
And relearned it myself—
From the best teacher:
Life.

She taught me all.
My favorite woman.
Whether pain or pleasure,
I loved her just the same.
She whispered secrets
Of existence, society, and everything in between.

Many times, I nearly died.
But I survived.

Then came sin—
My chosen curriculum.

I built my deadliest sins
And wore them like armor:
My vanity rivals even God's.
I cannot fail. It's impossible!

My greed keeps me sharp,
Focused, burning.
I want what I want.

My lust—
Not only for ***,
But for victory.
To see this world
Brought to its knees.

A cosmic hunger.

My gluttony?
It drives me to take on
More than I should—
And still, I surpass.

My apathy—
That cold, uncaring monster—
Is my shield.
A necessary evil.

Everything else is obsolete.
Even virtue.

If you plan to survive in this world:
Abandon all virtues.
There is no God above.

You are God.
We are Gods.

Do not let the devil of *******
Use society's illusion of order
To chain your will
And drain your soul.

You are a creature of change.
Change is chaos.
Chaos is life.
Life is God.
God is me.
I am you.
You are us.

Heed this message:
Survival is not the goal.
Possession is not the goal.
Happiness is not the goal.

Chaos is.

The only permanent truth
Is impermanence.

So go.
Unleash the world.
Restore it to its natural order—
CHAOS!
Wow, it been a while, writers block had me chained to emptiness. But I'm back now!
I don’t trust my fears; they have misled me too many times and caused more harm than good.
I trust God because following Him has always brought me improvement, hope, and a more open heart.
Although the path of faith hasn’t always been easy, it has been the most rewarding.
My focus is fixed firmly on Him, and I will sleep well tonight, knowing He is already in those challenging places where I have yet to tread.
Satan murmurs deceit, attempting to rob me of my tranquility, insisting that fear will provide me with safety.
He is a liar, for God has made a way for me in every battle, at all times.
-Rhia Clay
We pray in the garden,
For peace to take the ache away.
We pray in the garden,
For the light of God,
To guide us to better days.
We pray in the garden,
Guardian sanctum of our hope.
kevin Jun 8
Glimpse
Faltered Catchings
As fate was renewed
In spoiling of ink and songs
The clawfootings nest, awakes
Spirited joy
Gambling and dancing
Mischievous nuscance's
Joy filled pander

A French ladies girlhood
Jestering with courtship
And thievery

Her handed change
Spills of galaxy
Abandon of Greece
Partner of romance
Wonderous mortal boys torment
Goddess of folly and treasure tears
Fall at once
Capture my Irish play
Off with your heathen again
Grab the thatches and begone


Hangle and Lie
The devout of tomorrow
Belie your desire
Blankets of spite await in my idioms
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