Scars of the heart are the hardest to heal

Yet the greatest you can feel

To give yourself freely

To be released just as easily

Dark, black, darker
My own hand disappears
Quiet, quieter,
The the silence pains my ear.
Everything becomes distant
As my skin loses it's colour.
I have become invisible.
Is it because I died
And roam as a transparent ghost .
Or is it a leap of humanity
I don't know!
There's pain searing through my body,
And now it's gone.
Memories come rushing back,
A leap of humanity.
My creation, tried on me.
I am invisible,
And I am alive.
I see all
but nobody knows I am around.
It's loud,
The crowd.
I brush past
And someone calls it breeze.
I am forgotten,
I exist no more.
It pains me because now I cry alone ,
No help received,
Because I am invisible
And so is my pain, my sorrow.
I wish to be seen again.
It's dark,
But it's morning.
I see people live,
Invisibility is no bliss.
I am the result of a failed experiment
Which hoped for a better tomorrow.
My hand, I can use it ,
But can't see how it looks.
It pains, more than I thought it would.
It goes dark again ,
But this time it's loud.
I am in the woods,
Why is there an invisible sound.
And then something brushes past me,
A breeze maybe.
But breezes don't speak.
There he stands, I can feel him
There is somebody,
As invisible as I.
His presence,
I can't deny.
A sound, a squishing of leaves
And he becomes as visible as he can be.
I touch and feel an unknown arm,
And in turn I am felt too.
And there stands,
Another invisible being too.
We connect, without even trying,
Invisible humanity,
Can be defined.
We stand,
At the brink of two worlds.
And this one just has the two of us.
My pain is felt,
I am human again,
but in a different way.

Without past, without intervention,
it is spectating.
Memories are few,
present is new,
none can see, and none can hear,
the role of a spectator.
To see yet not do,
to hear yet not say,
spectator are lonely beings.

Adam's hand wrestled and bound:
unsubmitting, defiant, in anger, rages;
The Name of the upper hand is known,
but denied, and the Son of Man blasphemed.

i'm gasping for air
i'll never get
maybe if you'd miss me you would care.

who am i kidding?

i've been trying to get you to see me
for years beyond years,
but here i am with the sunlight pooling through
and you don't look at me

you never do.

people are still dying
the war is not yet over
the enemy is invisible
from which we all take cover
doors they are no barrier
no defense and little comfort
our adversary could be with us
sitting on the sofa

Sages have spoke wise words to me
They flow like invisible ink
Through my veins and my world
As the years go by, like grapes turning to ethereal wines
When my heart grows fonder
I sit and think a little about our surreal time
And write a secret poem, timidly
That has passed through ages
Like that invisible print and fabric of time
From me to you and sweet as eglantine and ageless still
Bit by bit as my love turns to malady
My pen loses it's strength and aptitude
My pallid hands clench on the last glimpse of eternity
My penmanship as the Earth cries
Of your simpler times 'twixt with mine
You are simply my Achilles' heel, my depth and picture
It seems as time goes by
The rest of the poem disappears
Like those forgotten beauties and lies
If you light a match underneath the papier
You will find my abstract love suddenly appears under those lines
As invisible ink flows like a sultry tide, true as fire and ice