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enduring quiet -
hands clasped sealing all tyrants,
a tumultuous poem.
the dawn of another
tempest and the twilight
of another's sleek extinction.

i roam freely
without fences so i could break
free with even speed.

this is where no men
traverse.
this is where everything
remains limitless.
this is where all fires
raze whatever has been uncovered
and deemed vulnerable.
this is where i imagine
realness and put to realities,
whatever is imagined.
this is where everything only
amounts so little,
and that in its smallness, i only
weave an immense thatch
for the asylum of these words
and watch them come to life...

it starts with a pencil of light
torching where silence beckons
and words writ strongly in
bold intent

and ends
where all of these syllabications
take their sojourns in one's mind,
pulsing with life and one with blood in the sinews of mind's faculty.

this is where i meander freely,
and everything exists
in illustrious wonder.
Grace Pickard Jul 2014
I have parted ways with my body
Because my mind isn't present
My heart, a charcoal gray: foggy
Has little passion since our dissent

I wrote dainty letters for you
Romantic, lengthy confessions.
Every empty word- away each flew
Whilst wading daily in depression.

Softly my soul fades with my love.
A hollow hole cut deep in your heart-
By unkind hope: an olive branching dove--
Is the coal that fuels this hatred art.

This suffering manifests my mind.
Winds blustering my common sense,
And life muttering "Are you blind?"
My body is combusting in defense .

Revenge begs me to set you ablaze-
Compassion  treads across this hell,
Speaks and heads into the insane,
Pulls me by the threads out of a spell.

I restrain from you- I am free -
I won't mention your infidelity.
Just make me feel not absentee.

I'm just done being unhappy.
Lots of thoughts- to be made into several different poems
©2014, Grace Pickard, all rights reserved

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