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Descovia 14h
The temper tantrum created a chaotic storm brewing in madness.

Ancient Malicious  forces Awakening  catastrophic evil inside. This is battle I cannot win with pride.

"You don't let me do anything!" my Isaiah Ray, loudly shouted at me, furious with utter disappointment.

Frustration screaming inside of my mind, ripping my heart in infinite pieces, but the light in his eyes, reminds me to stay alive!


"You are right! My son. I cannot let you do anything. Nothing, means more to me than your safety and you growing with things you love! I will not let my EVERYTHING do anything!

Reality warped and froze with a static in between our vigorous stares,to break the moment of silence. My arms embraced my son, as tears rolled down my face and my heartbeat accelerated speed, subsided to a calm tide, keeping me a float to remember "Who I am" in a sea of misery. Isaiah lovingly pulled me in, embracing me with tears of joy streaming from his glowing eyes.

It's not only a mother's duty to protect, cherish, value their love ones.

A father's role is very much important in same sense!

No argument or debate matters in place of you in their heart!

The blessing you could give your children other than siblings

Is the essence and memories to relish of your TIME!

(Turning Infinite Memories Everlasting-Energy/Eternity)

Honor your love ones.

Use your activated powers, while you are able to do so!
Brett 2d
In my folly, of following fathers that have come before me;
I find myself lost, strewn about, and blown off course.
Teachers taught me time, in only the most linear of directions.
Yet the sins of those long past, seem to rest a weight,
Heavy upon my back.
Each of us an Atlas, on our knees before our masters.

It seems quite the contradiction, to have freedom inside a system.
Where rules are loose, in their applied use.
A game of pick and choose;
Played with loaded dice, that always seem to favor the few.
We the beast of burden, weakest first, penthouses the new-age church
Where the powers preach the verse.

Lost in our lack of direction, like southern-bound birds,
Plucked of their feathers.
Grounded in work boots, dumbfounded and resolute,
In poisoning our connective roots.
Fields of flowers and acres of pine, burning with the flame,
Stolen from us, somewhere along the line
A sinking ship, with only ***** rags to plug the holes.
Streets once paved with gold,
Forever cracked like our collective souls.
Poem should be three 6 line verses, but alas HePo loves to mangle my structure. ARGHH!
Brett 2d
Even when the days, are the darkest shade of ash and gray
I’ll find my way
                          Even when black holes, swallow up my summer sun
                          I’ll never run
Even when winding roads, leave me lost and all alone
I’ll always find my way back home
                          Even when my veins, are coursing with numbing pain
                          I’ll never forget my name
Even when love, is emptied dry from my cup
I’ll raise it to the rain, and watch the world fill it up again
I am not sure which words to say
Many thoughts crowding my head
And pride plus fear get in the way
I stay silent instead

In no hurry to lay heart bare
Each time I've done it before
Sentences hung suspended in air
You smacked them down to the floor

You don't have the strength or sensitivity
To face truth and come to grips
This time what I'm longing to set free
Remains barricaded behind closed lips
So sick of repeating the same scenarios. When will I finally learn? My effort is pointless when it comes to you...
Of the 7846,000,000 people
Breathing on this boundless planet
Forcing hearts in homes and gripping life between decaying bones

You are the only things
I am convinced are made of
Every single commendable capability, crammed between honour and stability
Every good intention, of every promise that was meant to be kept
Regardless of whether they were ours to try and keep

You were crafted with the courage of lions
And I’ll never tire of preying on the poachers long before they dare come traipsing through our territories

You love with the ferocity of fire and on the days you fear there’s more smoke than flames and worry the pain may stamp you out, I’ll strike a match on the walls of my heart til we blaze our own trail out the dark

I love you with the loyalty of lightning and it’s devotion to the thunder that echoes between

I’m not one for holding grudges  but I will never forgive the thoughts in your mind for convincing you that somewhere amongst all of the magic that is you, that it is not enough
As if enough has to be earned
As though you need to apologise for the faults that simply make you human and flaws that make you, you
As though you need to be ashamed of the history that formed you and the memories that sowed scars into our skin

I am sorry for the people who tried to convince us our best wasn’t good enough
It was never anything less

I am sorry for the people that laid land mines in our skull and made us believe that heads full of dreams
Really did have nowhere to go
Little did they know.

We are worriers and we are warriors.

So when the self doubt storms you, and your insecurities swarm you
And your anxieties wear you thin
Don’t forget about the armour and ammunition we were born with
Buried deep within

If our hearts do build homes within bones. You are always welcome home to me. ♥️
Some trudge with thorns that only Jesus knows,
bent arrows only Jesus could remove.
Yet burning darts remain so fire might prove
rich purity of hearts, which suff'ring shows.
Chaperoned by sorrow’s lonely silence,
while moaning winds that ride the morning mists
portend the threat'ning storms of each day’s fists,
weary souls conceal distressing violence.
But Jesus holds their slightest measured pain,
as well as most excruciating arrow,
for He who governs ev'ry falling sparrow
won’t let His children’s trials wound in vain.
And resting in His all-sufficient grace,
they’re strengthened by His love to win their race.
~~~~~~

“The heart knows its own bitterness,
and no stranger shares its joy.“
~ Proverbs 14:10

~~~~~~
Aer Jul 9
like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon
I raise my own tattered wings to the sky
cursing the inadequacies,
throwing away all doubts,
shedding my second skin of half-truths
thrown into my head
by words so keen on my own destruction.
by time that had stopped for three hundred days.
by a pen that seemed never ending,
inhibiting the thoughts within my head.

with a new smile in my eyes
I take a newfound strength in my arms,
lift up my wings
and bring myself into a new flight.
been gone awhile but still writing...
Greet with love the morning sun
It shines for you and everyone
Rise in strength for work and fun
Arise and start to get things done

Get it done
While having fun
With everyone
In the morning sun

Don’t let your daily goals await
While sunshine sees you sleeping late
You’ll not reach prosperity’s gate
But dreams pass by, for lesser fate

Claim your fate
Prosperity’s gate
You’ll not be late
When your dreams await

Imagine energy passing through
Your body now, and strength renew
The morning sun holds power for you
Success in everything you do

You can do
What’s here for you
When you daily renew
As the sun shines through
This is Prosperity Poem 125 at ProsperityPoems.com and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below). https://www.prosperitypoems.com/poems/Poem125TheMorningSun.jpg
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I love the morning sun, and I'm always aware of when it first shines in our yard.  I go out to greet it.  We live near some high mountains to the East of us, so it's light for a couple hours before the actual sun rays shine on our house.  

The morning sun actually helps "condition" your skin so that you are less likely to sunburn later in the day.  The morning sun rays are special in a lot of ways - scientifically.  However, this poem is mostly about the mental and spiritual benefits of arising early to greet the morning sun.
I keep on waiting for a message that will never come
I should be done
Yet I am still painting pictures of future tinted in rose colours
Yeah, it's true I no longer spend my hours in obsessive reminiscing
i no longer see us kissing
I try to think of you no more
I have built a wall around parts of my memory
You are hidden, no longer in front of me
No ghostly whispers in a corner of my mind
Yet, I did not leave you behind
You keep on knocking on the doors to my consciousnesses
sometimes you barge in, cause a ruckus, feeling of helplessness
And then your projection hides herself again
Just to reappear, me never knowing when

I'm growing stronger, I'm forgetting
Romantic scenes are no longer upsetting
But your imprint remains
Leaving ****** stains as it walks through my brain
But I feel no pain
... I'm okay
Dark Dream Jul 3
1st Round:
You escape from your corner and start to move around the ring, moving and dancing, studing your opponent. You throw a punch here and there just to see their reaction. During this round you are deciding if you want to win. If you do, you have to take a risk and hit with a good combination.

2nd Round:
You keep moving and bringing more punches and risk those good combinations. You are feeling confident and great. Your opponent is responding to you, but you finish strong and win the round.

3rd Round:
Starts great. After two minutes you bring a huge left to the face and your opponent start to wiggle a bit. Their legs seem weak and they grab at you to stay up. You try to bring some flurries, but somehow you cannot end this little struggle. The bell rings and somehow you finish, winning the round.

4th Round:
This round starts slow as you try to bring more punches, but you are not doing much damage. Yet again you win the round, but you are worried.

5th Round:
You come back as you fight like a butterfly and sting like a bee, and you hit with right and put them on the knee! Your best round, and you are able to knock them down and open a cut.

6th Round:
You are now feeling a bit of fatigue and your opponent is able to take the range and some distance. At the end of the round they bring a huge right hook to your chin that you never saw coming. You go down. You are on the floor. You are down on the floor and you don’t know who you are. You don’t know where you are. Suddenly you here a voice, “Stand up! Do something!” You can here the referee, “Three! Four! Five!” Your opponent is mocking and celebrating. People all around are screaming at you. You turn your body, “Six!” and you stand up tall, “ Seven!” The ref asks you if you can continue. You bring your hands high. You are wobbling and are out of it. Yet you finish. You lose the round.

7th Round:
Your opponent keeps hitting you. You are dizzy, but you start to getting back. You slowly start to change your game plan. You finish the round—losing. Yet you have tried your best.

8th Round:
You are getting back in game. Getting stronger, but your opponent is too. You make some new moves and your body is great again, and you feel energized. This round is even.

9th Round:
You are doing amazing! Moving and dancing as never before. And then… BOOM. Your opponent brings a huge body shot! This slows you down so much and you are trying to catch a breath. It’s hurt so bad and it’s difficult to breathe. You knew that their body shots were heavy hitting, and you expected it, but you also underrated its’ strength. Now you are dizzy and moving around the ring. You know deep down you were prepared for that shot. You slowly start to catch your breath….

The bell rings and you are safe as you go to your corner. Your trainer is screaming, “You are blowing it son!” You are on your stool and that body shot was nasty and you are feeling it. You are hurt.

This your time to decide if you are going back in again or is it time to quit. There are few rounds left. The Championship rounds. You have to know that you can still win, even if you lost a couple of rounds badly and are now feeling weak.

But I am going in. I know I am going to have my second wind with a new resolve.

Are you quitting or will you finish strong?
A close friend wrote this, but wanted to remain anonymous. He is going through a struggle right now and he gave me this analogy of boxing (he is a boxer) to describe what some of his struggle felt like.
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