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StoryTallinn Mar 29
Until the sun rise
I will be my own light
Until the cloud disappear
I will be my own sun

I have lost a battle
Not the war
Sorry but...
White flags do not belong in my backpack

Steps after steps
Miles after miles
This was not supposed to be a sprint
But a marathon
Nylee Mar 22
I bet you are tired now
Coz' you were in my dream
Yesterday night
Running a marathon.
If immortality is granted
that shall be the day I die.

For if living has no finish line,
why must I run at all?
Amanda Jan 6
Emptiness has built a home I inhabit trapped inside my shell
If I remain here at least I'll make it look a little less like Hell
My thoughts form with cohesive structure
Dancing with clumsy pictures that slice and puncture
Do the words I am saying make any sense?
Or are they just ramblings of a mind depressed?
Closing in towards the end of strength and will
The finish line seems further still
No one near cheering me on
As I stumble this one-man marathon
That's life
Andrew Choo Mar 2018
They say that
Life is a journey.
But they’re wrong.
But it’s been much more than that.

All my life,
I’ve been running.
Sometimes,
It catches up and slows me down.
When I’m out of breath,
I can’t stop.
I can’t quit.
I can’t let go.
I can’t fail.
I can’t deal with life.

I just have to keep running…
Life’s a marathon.
The Devil himself

…..he read that online
mine poetry about poverty
that poverty was about
the grammar mistakes in many poems

the stupidity started chasing me
declared instantly me-moi as his enemy
his words, so absurd
a lunatic so terrific

I thought he could read poetry
but….I was mistaken....

my beloved one never knew
the alienating appearance of this blind male

I wrote about true poetry and its poverty
he associated with politics and its tactics

I thought he could read poetry
but….I was mistaken....

thought he ran the marathon
but....I was mistaken,

he was chasing me constantly,

God said to me: " Have never fear, Sylvia
I am with you all the time"

all my fears disappeared instantly

from far I heard the thunder
and I saw the brightest lightning
a man fell down shouting for help

on my way, I passed his burnt body
terrible smell of burnt blood
Hey! That was the one who was constantly chasing me
The devil himself with his poker face

Thank you, dear Lord,
you have helped me in Your Time....

that resonates with mine,
oh Lord, You are sublimest!


© Sylvia Frances Chan
Tuesday AD. The 20th February 2018-
@ 14.30 hrs P.M. West-European Time.

Sheer poetry 2018.  Hurray! © Sylvia Frances Chan
Copyright Protected. A parody poem.
Jillian McLean Jan 2018
"What's the worst feeling?"
"When you feel like you're running
a marathon, but everyone else
simply sees
a 50 meter sprint."
C.M
rinnette Sep 2017
You ran in front of me
There were multiple lanes
But there was only you
And I

You were so far ahead
I could barely keep up
But you turned your head
And told me
"I'm here."

You guided me through every hurdle
And warned me of every unstable ground
I chased
And you stopped

You came into my lane
And held my hand
"Let's do this together"
And we did

But the finishing line was near
And you had to win the prize
So you let go of me
And left me behind

But I am okay with it
For you won...

...
*And I am happy for you
But I miss you.
Michael Briefs Jul 2017
Journeys rendered dateless,
Unending,
Wayward and extending out,
Round the compass points --
Dizzying aspiration to cease this race,
To slow my sprinting soul,
This pace splintering, in exhaustion.

Expiring breath of hope or of home
Evaporated in a distance
Vanishing and
Disconnected.
Drifting
On trackless tides, across
Labyrinthine depths,
Within the vast heart
Of the world
I cannot run from.

Yet, I moved to and between
The center or its peripherals, in
Singular or collectives,
Seeking pattern and
Drawing connectives –-
Brushing by and
Bustling among
People
Entranced In their own
Objectives.

I watched their movements
And their exchanges,
I heard their rituals and
Invocations.
In all these transitions,
They have no inkling
That their seemingly trite
Lives merely manifest
The epic motifs of the heavens!

Our imaginations mirror
The vitality of the gods!
We are as immortal as they!
Our simple, sensual stories
Are also enduring legends
Unfolding,
As our pages turn,
Our flags are unfurling!

Just as our fellow
Olympians of old
Engaged in a marathon of
Endeavor to heights
Unimagined!
From those mystic days
Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre
Sang notes
Of Nature’s divinity, Her
Eternal sweetness.

We need only sense that
It is in Nature’s essence
We are sharing.
With her, we are joined in
An undying marriage,
A unified pairing –
Our human heritage,
Our dignified bearing.

We share in that song,  
We share in that sweetness,
We share in that race,
We share in Her immanence.

This journey is our own.

It goes on, unending!
Lunar Jan 2017
I hope you won't ever get tired
Of running in my mind
Because I never get tired
Of writing about you all the time

I hope you won't run out
And I hope you will stay
I hope, to you, I'll never run out
Of things to say
It's a marathon in my mind and in my journal. A race between the reality of you and the ideals of my pen. Will you make it first to the finish line of my heart, wjh?
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