Dreaming in ivory she heeded nothing.
The solace rushed through each cell like unalloyed ecstasy.
Evaporating her last sigh, she let go of the agony left viable within.
Life wasn’t absolute anymore, self identity was consumed.
A lifeless corpse with no earthly ties, no human needs.
Decay began having his way with her devoid flesh case.
Life flourishes from blight so gracefully.
What once contained memories and dreams, was now reduced to naught.

Get familiar with knowing silence, it is the permanent outcome for us all.

Indigo shades steeping
to Indian ink blackness
******* thought
to a beautiful, terrible singularity
where words struggle
to escape gravity
but on we fly

The Master slept; disciples saw the coming storm,
Threw a blanket on their Lord to keep him warm.
Clouds congealed, grays grew dark;
Lightning moved in flashing arcs.

More than a squall, the winds carved trenches
In writhing waters grown black beneath,
Tipped with frothing benches.

Grown weary of the crowds, body spent with care for others,
Still He slept the rest of an exhausted man,
Unaware the growing fear of brothers.

"Wake up! Do you not care if we all drown?"
Was it Peter who shook Him there,
Amazed he slept so sound?

He sat up from sleep, looked at the water,
Felt the wind, turned to the water,
Scolded, "Peace! Be still!"

The winds dropped; so did the waves;
The boat bobbed gently in the calm.
The men, awed, stood on the silent boards,
Marveling at the Lord.

We live upon on a tossing sea,
Torn by hate and fear in a storm of strife,
And no one has an answer we can see.
We're sailors fearing the end of life.
When is the time to turn to God,
Whom we forget still cares,
Waits "sleeping in the boat"
Until we're desperate in our prayers?

Poetry
Profound poetry
What does that mean?

Is it the surplus amount
of big words conjoined together
for a trade of a 'masterpiece' honouree?
Is it the simplest of words
drawn into each other
to paint such a beautiful imagery?
Or is it those blank spaces
that speak volume
about a person's well being?

Poetry
Profound poetry
What does that even mean?

I've forgotten how to speak
I've forgotten how to smile
But if I sit down and just think
Perhaps I'll remember for a while

I've lived a life by many names
By many faces, old, and new
I've seen my reflection fade to dust
And think, perhaps I can do that too

See my smile
Of course you do
I've made sure it looks convincing
But look deep into my eyes
And perhaps my mask is slipping

Have you ever looked at me
No, really, looked at me
What do you know, what do you see
Perhaps it is a truth, but candid is hard to be

I often think to myself
What would the doctors say,
If they could get a hold of me

That was a joke.
Funny, is it not?
Perhaps there may be more this than I had originally thought