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Adam Hever Jan 2019
Joy
Joy is nothing but a fleeting moment.
Alike solar flares, it bursts with power,
then burns with the blinding blaze of hope.
It’s a light which diverts our attention
but then ceases after we’ve been misled.
It gives us a deceiving veil for reality,
a version full of languidly rotting bliss.
And just when we’re about to get used to
this fake, transient “truth” we cling to,
that’s when the torch in our fragile hands
suddenly decides to take its last breath.

We find ourselves in the same void again,
feeling empty and lost, without an aim.
We then desperately start seeking fuel
so that our fire of hope would burn anew.
We grasp everything that comes along,
we just want a source of hope to go on.
We just need a sense of balance in life,
something to make us believe we are fine.
And when we’re in growing utter despair,
our obscuring naivety won’t lead us anywhere.
Chris Jan 2019
Velvet river slowly flowing,
As the autumn wind is blowing,
Just a glimpse of life it's showing,
Is taking you away,

Tired trees who's solemn sleeping,
Reminds a human soul of weeping,
And a brave, brave paw of rabbit leaping,
will make you into prey.

The green lanes of sunshine winding,
Golden light of city blinding,
The feeling of so gently sliding,
Is marking your own grave.

The rush and rumor ever stirring,
In the cauldron, reassuring,
That flame under you is burning,
Wherever you choose to stray.
This one is about the ugly side of being free.
Sara Marsh Nov 2018
And so I am here again
Starting over, remembering the difference between what was, what is, what should have been

And so I am defining love
Unselfish, steadfast and unwavering through all that may try to invade what has been build to last

And so I see it for what it was
A desperate wanting for untainted promises and pure devotion by one who said he would

And so I see what I missed
The two were not equal; one was not tested and true. For she was the only one that was prepared, that was...

Worn
Anya Hope May 2018
She looked up to the sky and saw all those fallen stars.
She couldn’t believe any more.
She stepped down from the pedestal,
she put away her telescope,
she lay down under the flowery duvet,
shut her eyes,
and went to sleep.
‘She was an amazing woman of faith’.
We hold faith as a virtue, a marvelous virtue. Marvelous because of it’s strength to hold despite the weight of all the things lying on top of it, trying to break that faith – the weight of a gritty reality. But what if we loose that faith? Is that a failure?
I'm dragging a mountain
                                        down with me,
To those depths and
                                                       below this sea.
Aflaha Jan 2018
He was like the darkness where she could finally see everything clearly. With her mind completely free of doubt, her feet trusted her to walk with eyes closed. In that moment, she could feel the vastness of his being and the naivety of his love for her, like pearls delicately balanced on the wings of a butterfly. One flutter, they would shatter to the ground yet so perfectly beautiful in that moment, you wouldn't dare disturb it nor could you take your eyes off it
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