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Run
I used to call runners crazy fitness freaks.
Now I've become one as well.
When running was mentioned I would shriek.
Now I run to excel.
Her heart is gone, So broken with time
As she said good bye, Leaving on a dime!
Words generating with Pressure
Building in  time, Of nothingness sublime!

From long ago, Tumult ‘every day
A life of chaos, building up and away
In the stillness of the night
With no end in Sight!

She was laying there, Crying, Feeling like dying
Hoping upon hope, This would be her last
Creaks and groans, Were heard
And she knew she wasn’t alone from the past...

Was that a voice calling her name or was it a lie?
Her heart trembling like a frightened bird!
Don’t be scared, fear only hears the overheard
Walking,  As she said  goodbye!
a woman frighten and running for her life. Need I say more...
Natasha George May 2015
Sirens now screaming.
All I see is red and blue.

Panting,
my feet hurt.

Gasping,
my lungs hurt.

I run.

I run
cause I can't stop.

I can't stop,
cause then the rest will catch up.

Sirens still screaming,
red and blue lights surround me.

Still I run.
moss May 2015
it seems, these days
in many ways
i spend so much of my time
waiting

i don't know how
but in the now
i'm never really content
longing

you'd think i'd know
the ebb and flow
but i'm still not quite caught up
running

i look, i stare
just everywhere
to see what the people do
watching

maybe i should
if only i could
start living my own life soon
**beginning
Reverie Dawson May 2015
I know we are both human.
We both make mistakes.
But I 'am NOT your  punching bag.
You are scratching, shoving, and crushing me.
And I'm trying to run, jump and duck from all the words you throw at me.
But it seems like the ground is rumbling and turning me around back to your horrid words.
And it feels like every word that you speak brings me down.
Each word breaking and taring me slowly.
I guess I am your punching bag after all.
I'm fixed up with tape and glue, holding on by a cord.
saranade May 2015
Destiny.
It's not too far to see.
Blind yourself in history.
Old comforts killing me.
I'm stuck in this world you've built.
Looking outside your guilt.
Life is right in front of you.
Everything will come. Everything you need.
Just look around. Don't make a sound.
Don't push away... don't push away...
Don't cry for me, my love.
Don't cry for me.

Look at the clock, it's winding down.
Listen to my voice, my sound.
Feel my words and everything around.
This town was built for destiny.
It's everything that we could be.
Your heart needs to let it be.
Don't run away.
Don't cry for me, my love.
Don't cry for me.
https://soundcloud.com/spsara/dont-cry-for-me-mixed

Click that if you'd like to hear the song that the lyrics go to.
Run
I envy you
For your ability to run
And hide from the things that you can't change
For having the nerve to say goodbye
And the means to flee
I am caught here in all of my lies
With no escape in sight
No end getting closer
Yet somehow I'll stay here
And you'll keep running away
Two miles is what it took
to hear that still small voice.
Two more miles is what it took
to realise that she needed to listen rather than run.
In that four miles were over 8000 steps,
little and big,
hard and soft,
energising yet exhausting,

The day had been long,
her soul craved the lake air.
She retreated to a quiet place
hoping that she could get her mind to still.
She doubted that He would speak wisdom,
as she has been a stubborn girl.
But she tried so very hard,
to listen, that is,  
and when she stopped running to catch both her breath and mind,
she was smacked with the love that only a father can give.
A taste of the freedom that she once had,
yet craved even more deeply than before.

He showed her great things,
her Father did,
allowing her to reflect on the moments when he had been faithful.
He emphasised the journey,
rather than the destination.
After He was finished,
she stood still and wept.
Agape love,
it is hard to receive.
With her music silenced and her running feet stilled
she walked back to the starting line,
retracing her steps.
Only this time it was different.
This time she allowed her Father to hold her hand,
as she was reminded that she was not alone.
Is never alone.
evening reflections
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