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I've been fighting with temptation in everyday that I'm
faced with
Resetting my mind
all of my hopes and my dreams
onto the re-placement
Of every loss
And the suicidal thoughts of me
Losing  Control
Still engaged in my mind I'm inclined
while,
Maintaining the goal
of walking down that straight and
narrow road  of Life
Because I have a date with Destiny in spite of what is ailing me in
Sight
While all the while?
Through the dark of night
I'm forced to fight with many
different things,
With no self-esteem trying to figure out
who to believe
And who to trust and on whom
can I call?
Soul is uncontent to balance the fence
Slowly committed to fall
All while seeing the steady fall
Of my many brethrens called
For the same purpose and the work that was meant for us all
But still my soul fell slowly down
De-pression's Well
Totally left to figure out how to
make it out
Wondering how I slipped and fell?
Fallen waist deep
Lost
within the clutches grief
With seemingly no way of me finding
an answer,
And no way of me holding my Peace
So as a means of release?
I'm now speaking my Peace
Releasing for this reason having the
means of picking up the
Spiritual  Pieces
And putting it all back together using it for what it's worth
Visualizing the Holy theme giving birth to revive my Hopes and
Dreams
But these dreams are not seen through the eyes of surprise
But only seen through the joyfulness of watching our spirits
Rise
Riiising out of the ashes where the
fearfulness is cruel and savage,
Out of the madness where the hopelessness is the rule of sadness
Escaping the Pain
No longer bond under heavy
Locks and Chains
No more wounds to be healed
No wounds to seal
No bandages with
-Stains-
Been stuck trying to write something new, So I've decided to repost this for motivational purposes.. I'm taking it back to the roots of why I started writing in the first place. I would love to get some feedback on this one because it is still a very personal and emotional rollercoaster of a write for me. I would honestly love to hear from some new people on how this was relatable to you. This is me at my best at my worst, I am in my element when I write like this and I have a lot more like this as well, You just have to look for it.
D Aug 2021
Ink stains linger,
Always collected on my fingertips,
Leaving a trail behind me,
From cotton sheets,
To the apple of your cheek,
Just follow my ink stain trail,
I'll linger longer so you can find me.
Man Apr 2021
on the wall
hung a clock
melting in the day's ire
running toward the ground,
it ran fast sometimes
and occasionally
mind numbingly sluggish

in the washbasin
the rags i wore
soaked in a soapy stillwater
waiting for the wash
that these tired hands
must do

these blemished hands
how they hurt
strained from work
like the oil stains
on his shirt
they are worn
they are torn
and are without comforting
though his resolve is strong
his will is weak
from the havoc wreaked
from a life of low pay
struggling to live
week to week
knowing you deserve better
Eola Dec 2020
Blank paper
So pure
Let me corrup you with thoughts
And stain with blue scars
Eola Nov 2020
It runs through it's masters veins
With a thick consistency that stains
The journeys that it usually takes
Often are in snowy plains
When it stops, it makes chains
Of epic tales that advance our brains
After the centuries it remains
To help us in the quest to obtain
The knowledge we seek to retain
What is it?
Sarah Flynn Oct 2020
I try to forget about
the things that I’ve done,
and sometimes I can

but when I get home,
I see that my bad decisions
are still stained into
my bedsheets.
Maniacal Escape Jul 2020
Fat sounds, and fingers
spread ugly phleghming sharting stains on
Cotton, shiny white and new. And
Spit and ***** books a slot on,
Saturdays outfit change and
Its ok.
Sadie Grace May 2020
She wished to paint with watercolors
because they bled all over the paper
Like her emotions bled all out of her wrists
but never out of her mouth

She wished there was a way to be beautiful
and still tell the truth of her messy, wild life

She was reaching for her razor blade
When the watercolors called to her
There is a better way
There is an easier way than this, they whispered
She wanted to believe it
but didn't know if it was worth the risk
didn't want to look weak

There was no pain involved in this new way
Only beauty bleeding from her heart
Instead of her skin
Was it worth it?
to leave paint stains rather than scars on her arms
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