There are times when I see my solitude
as lazy swirls in warm sand
fingertips of life gently teasing their granules into shapes I do not recognize
yet they bring comfort in their fluidity.
I can’t help but escape to moments
that mean more than me
and so much more to those who wander times sandy shores seeking their own solace
imagining what types of creatures live
to make such intriguing trails
and never linger to share them.
There is a kind of beauty in that..
such beauty there is and never was.
chair is spinning around with shriveled leaves
rustling emptiness is what we have
engraved into the souls
imprisoned into the hollow beliefs.
let the dead howling
fight with the strom inside.
you will, won't you?
Croon thy words
In a tune loud.
Wrap me ****
In a white shroud.
Yell thy whine
for my chained soul,
What shall determine
The dead one's parole?
Solace me dear
For death I Fear.
Strange is yet
That All I hear!
Dead one fears
As corse is hurried.
Don't haste to the yard
Where bones are buried!
Since I hear,
Speak to me dear.
As far I am unalive
Azrael won't arrive
Speak to me a lie
Until I die.
Monologue of a corse, hearing people's elegies for his death.
I want to meet my opposite,
And attract to her beauty.
We'll find places to visit,
And travel around free.
I want her to not be afraid of being afraid
To not be afraid of not knowing
I want to know that we're made
I want us to be glowing
Together an eternity
Sometimes it's best
in the silence
and take refuge
in your own self
No one could
ever feel your pain
In the same way
as you do
do you know?
a few words of comfort
can surely heal our wounds
i have always been enough, now i understand.
far away from you, this is where i stand.
you being my solace was a mistake.
pills of euphoria i must take.
Lost in thought
Mind is gone
In search of solace
By breathing in
And moving on
Couldn't put a definite description, but it's about sometimes spacing out and thinking too much of the past that you can forget to just breathe. Sometimes finding solace is breathing in and moving on.
That small town is my torment
And this city is my solace
The busy streets don’t have room for a pit
And the city lights brighten the darkest nights
The people bustling and hustling even on Sundays
Oh, they don’t even have time for haze
Remembering and forgetting don’t require wit
The best thing this city has taught me about suffering is that I should own it
I did not lose the pain at all
But this city taught me to stand up after I fall.
we all have our own ways to escape.
Time has fed a burning fire with dying embers.
A dwindling light in the winter wind, flickering
As the night sought to put it out but could not,
Resisted death and not once lost its light.
Still I pitied it. A candle hanging by a thread,
Waging quarrels with the wind, found no solace
In my cupped hands. The cold and bitter tears
Of these winter nights pelted its withering spirit.
Written some day last June 2019.
Fear confining you
Bound to your bed
Solace; murmur whisper secrets
Until the sun shines unhindered
All the world cries out comfort
In the flight of bird-wing wishes