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Zane Sep 2021
In this wretched existence
Not a day has passed I don't dream of you
The gentle nature of unadulterated love
That defined our mutual existence.
These echoes reverberate so strongly
Throughout the day-to-day mundanities
I wonder if I unknowingly
Committed a séance.
I ache so much
For mere want of such a simple thing
As the beacon of light
That was your presence in my life.


You were so beautiful
And I, so desperate to prove to you
That the heavens shined forth
And the Earth itself warmed
When you gazed upon me
With your smile.
Zane Sep 2021
deep within the wellspring of my chest
i chisel away
for nine long months i toiled daily
fashioning this beautiful scarlet ornament
a gift for the highest of all creatures
one i once lay convinced might just hold it forever
yet these days
the work is lonesome.
how does one unbuild foundations of concrete?
for my gaze was afixed upward for so long
i failed to see i was burying my feet
to build your monument
and now that you've left
where can i go?
Mornings Together

I’m tired of the nights together;
I want the intimacy of watching the rising sun with you
Part twenty-four....
Zane Sep 2021
i can feel the weight of the world pulling me down
all around with its blemishing frowns
how i once saw life so full of glee
now it's naught but fragile mystery

all these lives crossing endlessly
will see things that i'll never see
who can say how my end will be
i just pray that it's mercilessly
Zane Sep 2021
someone will drive you around the same roads i did
under streetlights at 4am
where our love was
where our love never was

to parks we sat in
wherein we spoke words of compromise
understanding and compassion
where our love was
where our love never was

in your apartment
i held your hands so gingerly
and spoke words of endless devotion
where our love was
where our love never was


in your arms
in my mind
in your heart
the place where our love was
the place where our love never was
Into her life , a tear did fall
Cleanses the wound , of the past that crawled
struggled so hard to get up and run,
waiting for the brand new life , only to steal

Understood , offering not even a single tear ,
gifts , weighted heart , difficult to bear

or surrendering to the unfair world ,
could only be a regret throughout year

memories of stolen childhood ,
had tattoed into her soul
tears became her new ornament , that the life wants her to pay as a toll

Her screams , gone unheard ,

her silence , gone crime ,

her tears , gone wasted ,

her life became useless ,

but still she rose ,
learnt to fly with those broken wings ,
doesn't need the pillow , to share her tears ,
climbed up , from cliff of hurtful stories ,
and spread her wings ,
to chase for her little Big secret dreams...
Thomas Steyer Jul 2021
I wonder what it is that gets me up in the morning
Thoughts enter my head of this and of that
Suddenly I'm standing - there was no sign of warning
And my mind knows nothing or where it's at.
Pining to be loved
I sought asylum within these pages
Every line, every word, every rhyme
Was a reflection of the sorrow that ruminated
Beyond the looking glass.
Yes, I fathomed I was alone without a
Guiding star, without a lodestar to lead the way, O, but now I am liberated
By The Sovereign of Songbirds
Who solaces me by his mellifluous musicality.
(Yes, I am free)

Soaring beneath the stratosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and exosphere
I saw all the suffering underneath the sun
And remembered what it was like to slumber.
Rest is something I took for granted
Feeling it was only forged to flee lament; oh, but that is only half the freedom
Of truth: Yes, we are reborn when we slumber.
So lull me and lead the way; furthermore, I am liberated.
The Sovereign of Songbirds enspirits me
By the clairron lullaby, by His voice.
(O, I am free)

Dreaming, I lost sight of all that made me human;
Limitations forgotten, I drifted heavensward. I forsook
All I held beloved.
Why must phantasy mean sacrifice? Must the fantast
Be sundered in order to claim transcendence, ascendence?
Yes, I was burned by The Incendiary Sun but
My heart has survived. It leads the way to liberty.
I am risen by The Sovereign of Songbirds who resurrects me.
I am summoned from the ashes like a Phoenix Rising.
(O, I am free)

(Se’ lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III

Zane Mar 2021
i foresee death, washed up on the shores
of this island of self-pity i have shipwrecked myself upon
the absence of a willingness to change
mixed with my deprecating thoughts
is all i have consigned myself to drinking
knowing that i am unable to handle self destruction as a normal human would.
whereas one might lose themselves to alcohol
or another intoxicant
I chose to reach further and further into the despair that previously has spurred me towards growth
yet now leaves nothing but fumes to continually choke me.
i wonder.
will i spring out of this cocoon of hate?
or make another attempt to end it for real?
go somewhere greener.
be ******* neater.
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