In sunshine's glow,
we wear a smile,  
yet deep inside,
we feel the trial.
The weight of hope
can feel so grand,  
but woes can linger,
close at hand.
With every cheer,
loiters niggling doubt,  
can happiness withstand
what life is about?
To be the light,
yet fear the strain,  
When the bright facade
can crack and fray.
Beneath the mask,
a heart may strain,  
for constant joy  
can feel like pain.  

©️Lizzie Bevis

I should not be surprised by the hypocrisy,
It’s not hidden, it’s as thin as a veil,
Over eyes that look but refuse to see
The forked tongue and serpents tail.
Honor is weak and integrity frail
Poisoned by lies and strangled by fear,
Bargained like Faust at a crossroad sale,
Cheaply exchanged for something unclear.
One mans dream becomes another’s tear
Common ground as fertile as salted earth,
Dead as Christ at the tip of Longinus’ spear
Hemorrhaging but without hope for rebirth.
Hope, like a waning a moon grows dark
The Future unclear down this path we embark

It must be dark
out here in the cold penumbra,
where mile after mile
no one smiles,

dots and loops,
dots and loops,
a kind of blissful nullity,
beautiful and pointless,

wearing at the edges
it almost stings,
seclusion unraveling
at the underground in us all,

aubade aberrations abound,
challenging the orthodoxy
of the troublesome
morning road,

but should this near-life experience
hydroplane toward
another mineshaft, it helps to know
less is less, not more.

In the blink of an eye,
our life is gone.
We live the days,
pretending they don't run out.

Death promises us one thing.
It is a final justice.
We beg, and we ask,
and in the end, it delivers.

Fair or not fair,
there's equality in death.
To postpone or meet halfway,
the grave is patient.

to be the kind of person
who will glimpse
the cherry blossom tree
beautifully delicate
in its early bloom
fluttering the palest pink
against a fragile white
desperate against even
the gentlest of breeze
but only observe
the black and the white
of what the premature
might mean for later
commenting how soon
these branches will lose
their graceful lustre
no longer to inspire
those hopeful wanderers
only to appear barren
and lifeless once again

Death is not a predator.
It is what was before
and what is to come.
Life is but a disruption
of eternal nothingness.
The way that moment feels
is really up to you.
Don't let darkness take over!

a gentle patter of rain
tapping politely
at the window
not tempestuously
but imposing enough
in its constancy
a passive aggressive reminder
from the heavens
of our ultimate
lack of control
such a minor obstacle
and yet it tips
the scales of
what was planned
or hoped for
to something perhaps
unforeseen
not yet considered
i thought i had
no intention of
leaving the house
but find myself
rolling my eyes
with huff and sigh
cursing the grey
for ruining
that potential

by lunchtime
windscreens glisten with
newly welcomed sunlight
reflected blindingly
from droplets that linger
despite the fresh warmth
carried in the convective air
it no longer appears
to be "coat weather"
though the ground
is still puddled
to squelch or
splash underfoot
perhaps i could venture
outside after all
with a motivation
fuelled by this
latest change
but for all the blue
stretching the sky
there is still that
darkened mass of cloud
hanging heavy in the distance
unable to tell if it has
been weathered already
or is another downpour
yet to come

it turns out
Mother Nature is
just as indecisive
as the rest of us
it seemed that
she had finished
with her winter
her day-long frosts
and biting winds
no longer the need
to cocoon oneself
in protective layers
when venturing out
for nothing more than
a bottle of milk
of down-stuffed coats
and twice-wrapped scarves
woollen hats
and thermal socks

it felt like
we had moved on
our spring had arrived
just in time
we could enjoy
the brisk early mornings
despite their chill
safe in the knowledge
that the gentle touch
of afternoon warmth
would shortly follow
the biggest setback
to be expected
was an intermittent
morning-to-evening downpour
dampening our anticipation
though only temporarily
of any plans we had made
until the puddles were dry
or had drained away

it may have been
a false start
but i'm loathe to say
we were tricked
or call it
an outright lie
those brightened days
were a welcome change
enjoyed by all
we were simply
carried away by
the primaveral allusions
lulling us enough
to forget the cold
and its significance
catching us unprepared
and exposed
like those delicate flowers
so recently bloomed
buried for now
beneath this weight
of snow

What a thief, a robber
Snatching away the precious
You hedonistic hoarder
Reducing beauty to mere corpses
You scoundrel, you criminal
Plucking memories from unknowing brains
Cold, uncaring, terrible
Burning down the smallest speck to flames
Everything stained by your touch
Slowly disintegrates into dust
Those unfortunate to witness your power
Trudges through every day, every hour
Forced to undergo the withering of bones
No warning, no apology, just more tomorrows
Acknowledge you do not, of the misery you inflict
Pain and strife is naught, but a side effect of your whims
Imprisoned in your snare, only one path to walk
Forever forwards while death looms and stalks
Escape through only its means, and only on its terms
Sadistic torturer queen, reigning your kingdom of hurt
So shall we put you on trial, for your innumerable crimes
Send you to the gallows, compensation for all those who die
By your hands we hope to declaw, by your malicious laws
Entropy wins and defeats, we cower to the floor
As long as you exist, it can always be ensured
We shall remain your victims forevermore