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I hate myself.
Ah, what a shocking revelation.
Another day, another shipwreck,
Like I ever had a map to calmer waters.

I hate myself.
A song stuck on repeat,
An anthem my mind refuses to rewrite,
A weight pressing against my ribs, unyielding.

I hate myself.
And here comes the grand finale:
The urge to tighten, to silence,
As if choking on air could quiet the waves.

I hate myself.
So much that even my reflection looks away,
So much that even my shadow hesitates to follow.
So much, and yet, I am still here.

But you are here.
Somehow still standing,
A survivor of a war no one sees,
A heartbeat that refuses surrender.

You are here.
Your chest is tight, your hands are shaking,
Your mind swings between stay and run,
But at least you still feel, right?

You are here.
Breathe. Or let your body do it for you.
It knows how to stay afloat,
Even when your mind is begging to sink.

You are here.
And you deserve better.
Not because it’s poetic,
But because no storm lasts forever.

You are here.
And so am I.
So tell me, do we drown, or do we learn to swim?
If this storm feels familiar, you’re not alone. Let me know if this speaks to you.
A linden sways in Berlin’s air,
soft and still, yet drifting where
it once had danced in golden light,
now falling, fading out of sight.

Once it stood, so strong, so free,
born of spring’s sweet memory.
Once it warmed in summer’s grace,
now autumn’s breath has torn its place.

Yet long before the cold winds came,
I was the storm, I bore the rain.
I dimmed your light, I broke your soul,
never knowing the weight, the toll.

Your roots, once deep, began to fade,
drowned in shadows my heart had made.
And though I never wished you pain,
my weight was yours to bear in vain.

And as our leaves drift to the ground,
we stand as ghosts, lost, unfound.
For you, my light, my heart, my stay,
are gone—and all is cold and grey.

Love once held me close to you,
like roots that held my world in view.
But without you, what remains?
An empty vessel, a soul in chains.

So now I call the wind once more,
to bear us where no sorrows soar,
to dance again, then set us free,
a fleeting breath upon the sea.

Through restless tides and whispering trees,
it sings of loss, it hums of peace,
it stirs my soul, it beats my mind,
then leaves no trace of us behind.

Yet know this truth, to most unknown—
leaves will never die alone.
They follow where their love is blown.
Zack 6d
“Red skies in the morning, sailors heed warning”
Beautiful orange sunrise, from the top of this wayne mountain
Dress the new york city skyline in marmalade
Bring us the promise of a turbulent winters storm tonight
Save me from tomorrows trials and tribulations
Snow me in, cover me up
and I’ll find warmth in your frozen promise
            

                                                  ­     ---
                                      Marmalade dressed sky
                                Peaceful mountain top sunrise
                                            Chaos tomorrow
                                                       ---
You feel like light.
You feel like foam.
You feel so bright.
You feel like home.
the forever shelter to the storm
A moment of solace  
Destroyed by the sea,  
It's pulling me under,  
I cannot break free.  

I cling to the boat,  
My grip starts to fade—  
The storm rages louder,  
It’s time to be brave.  

A torrent of water,  
Crushing my chest,  
Pinning my body,  
Stricken of breath.  

My mind is a storm,  
Fear pulls me deep—  
I watch as the shadows  
Swallow my sleep.  

I hear my name  
As you call for me,  
You settle the noise,  
The storms and the sea.  

All light disappears,  
My vision is blurred—  
A violent squall  
Is all that’s heard.  

Then—a faint whisper,  
A break in the roar,  
Your voice finds me  
As I reach for the shore.  

By Darren Wall ©
The third part, Revised.
The rain falls, unnoticed,
we’re all waiting for some sign—
but we are the storm.
Emotions like the sea,
Ebb and flow, rising, falling,
Within the abyss of my being.
Sometimes calm, sometimes a storm,
Yet always a part of me—
A tempest in the quiet,
In constant, ever-changing motion.
KarmaPolice Feb 8
I'm drifting out to sea,  
Where the storms brew,  
At peace with the thunder,  
Entranced by the view.  

The lightning leads,  
As my eyes fixate—  
The violent storm  
Communicates.  

I can't hear your cries,  
I can't feel your pain,  
Blind to your attempts  
To save me again.  

The sea crashes,  
I’m dragged from the shore,  
Trapped and alone—  
To fight this harsh war.  

I'm lost in the storm  
That silences your plea.  
Don’t cry for me now…  
This fight is in me.  

By Darren Wall ©
Im not keen on my original poem. I've made changes in order to help it flow better.
The rain falls,
pounding into my chest.
After a while, it becomes wet.
It beats and throbs
between the drops.

The lightning cracks
and leaves its streak
a reminder of what it feels
like to love.

Trying to keep pace
with the water that keeps running,
swelling up without a drain.
There’s no escape
just wet skin,
bottled from the inside out.

The rain becomes everything
that it touches.
A storm,
drowning out all the noise around.
While the rain pours,
all I see is your silhouette
a wet slap to the veins
that swells and grows.

Thunder rumbles in the distance
Merinda Feb 1
What if the storm never really passes?
What if it's part of me?
What if it's my strength?

What if the storm is me?
What if destruction is the way I breathe?
What if disaster is how I see beauty?

Do you mind that?
Do you still see the beauty of me?

What if I'm the one who could destroy you anytime?
Is that "more than coffe" thing still meant for me?

I hope so,
'Cause I'll always be the one standing my ground.
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