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Elicia Hurst Apr 2018
We all have temples
And ruins in ourselves,
Yet I got to be my own devil.

Full of fatal advice
Was the altar in cold Styx
I set myself upon.

(I, a princess perished afterwards.)

But with these meager, mortal eyes,
Had I ever seen anything so terrific
As the face of a god?

Thunder roared.
Fiery heart.
Fever in my palms.

(I, a goddess of madness now.)
Mar 2017
Patricia LeDuc Apr 2018
The butterfly is an ancient symbol of hope, the symbol of new life, and the symbol of those who are bereaved. However, before the beautiful butterfly emerges it must spend time in a cocoon.

It is our human nature to want to assist the butterfly in its attempt to escape from the cocoon; but, if we do release the butterfly prematurely, it will fall to the ground and perish. By its struggle, the butterfly strengthens it wings enabling its survival and flight to freedom.

Our grief in time of sorrow is like the life process of the butterfly. We often spin a cocoon around ourselves to hide the way we feel, our anger, and our desolation. Others may help us in our struggle; we do not need to travel the path of bereavement alone as does the butterfly.  However, the ultimate responsibility is ours. We need to grieve, hurt, cry, be angry, and strive to free ourselves from our own cocoons of grief.  And, hopefully, one day we will emerge like the beautiful butterfly…a stronger, more compassionate and understanding person. Until that time, let the little butterfly on the corner of this page be a symbol of hope, faith and understanding.
I wanted to share this for anyone who needs to see life and death in a simple kind way.  

Twenty years ago I heard this at a memorial service for a colleague. I had the hard copy but thought I had transcribed it on to my word documents. I had shared it many times with friends at various times. Unfortunately my external hard drive died and I lost it completely. I needed it recently and scoured the internet for the butterfly story then gave up. Two days later the original hard copy fell out of a pile of paperwork I had not looked at for years. No coincidence that it came to me in the last place I would have imagined.

The butterfly found me when I needed it the most
Steff Apr 2018
Maybe the spring will offer a chance
For me to re-root and grow again
Maybe I can take this season of rebirth
And take the pain,
Turn it around into good energy.
And let my heart bloom.
Nathan Box Mar 2018
We are born to die;
Such a defeating way to look at the world.
It ignores the possibility of progress and hope.

We are born to live.
In that view, we move humanity forward.
Generation after generation is born again.

We are born to prosper.
Here, we can make ourselves better.
Humanity is given a chance to change.

We are born to embrace the long view.
What we do now holds weight.
The world is offered a fighting chance.
Aidan Derocher Mar 2018
This is the end of eras,
time pivoting, slipping on ice,
people dying, people crying,
lost all sense of foresight.

Yet with the crumble of this world,
a new light may begin to shine,
rising up like a phoenix,
we must not be blind.
So where may I fit in,
in this dance of loss and love,
you took my hand,
pulled me to your side.
Saved me from the void of isolation,
casting it to the side,
I am brought into the sunlight,
your love making me burn bright.
This is the end of eras,
and I have not died,

bring me with you through times of sorrows,
help me rebuild a new life
.
Margarita Kamara Mar 2018
Set ablaze by the forceful flame of  fallaciousness and failure
Fueled by my foolishness
It’s burns with such passion
A flame that can not be contained
it’s too massive
Ashes Ashes
I burn to the ground
Everything I thought I knew comes crumbling down
The smell of burned expectations
Is all around
Nothing left but a pile of dust on the ground
My whole life unwound
Yet I can see so clearly now
This flame of pain cleared up a new domain
Even after a wildfire life still remains
Like a phoenix I have arisen from the flames
This lesson will not be taken in vain
I now know my worth...This is my rebirth
JonahAlonso Mar 2018
Your words sear the flesh like hot iron.
The skin quakes and quivers at the sound of your thunderous voice.

You smother the soul with fear, just the same as you envelope it in love.
You fill me with life and with all the same reasons you make me wish i could die.

You,
the contradiction,
dictate my path.

So I carry you like an emblem burnt into my skin,
Waiting for you to strike me down, just to bring me back to life once again.
Birth, Death, Rebirth
Purcy Flaherty Feb 2018
My love don’t live here anymore.
My love don’t live here no more,
The body it has gone,
but the soul it lingers on.
My love don’t live here no more!

I hear your whisper in my ear,
I hear your whisper in me ear,
Though the body; it has gone,
The words they linger on.
I hear your whisper in my ear!

Let me go, let me go, don’t you cry!
You’ll meet me on the other side,
You promised me a song,
let it be a gentle one,
Hold me in your arms for one last time.

No more trouble; no more strife row your boat to the shaw;
my love,
Take my hart and leave these tears,
i'll meet you in a lifetime,
and kiss you in that place called paradise.

Let me go, let me go, don’t you cry!
You’ll meet me on the other side,
You promised me a song,
let it be a gentle one,
Hold me in your arms for one last time.
Hold me in your arms for one last time.
Meet me in that place some other time!
Dedicated to Ray & Tarita Martin two people I love with all my heart!
Song link below:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=CIUo-K0IoWQ
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