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Noura Nov 15
when day breaks and brazen stands the sun
as if to say, it is day, the storm has passed
once more
you lay in a pool of soft sand, a whisper of what once was
fists clenching and unclenching
silence so deafening you ache
it feels so unpleasant, this ease
comfort was not meant for you, where do you even place yourself in a scene meant for someone else?
you make suffering your home
the cold tiles a cornerstone
but the suffering has ended in spite of you
of all your pleas to stay in a race for survival
trotting on battered rubble-bound roads
and despite it all
you are safe and free
the sun lapses in providing warmth
but never stills
and neither have you
before now

and yet
happiness does not creep in, nor does it knock
nor barges or in wanders
you are left empty in a filled space
almost to the point of combustion
and this is how you shall stay
shivering, the rays hurling themselves at any surface besides you
fruitless, the suffering meant so very little besides all that you knew
empty, just as the space next to you
Dear all,
A life lived is a task
No man can carry alone.

Life is a choice,
A choice we did not make.
But alas
We face the burden,
Once created and shaped.

We only make a turn
When our minds are at stake,
When life becomes hate ,
When happiness arrives late.

Some we lose
In the crisis of thought.
Dropping their weapons
To the battle
they have fought.

I understand you
Lost one,
For your vision is clear.
Your understanding of life
Is getting harder to bear.

Life is a challenge,
I shall not disagree.
But you are strong and willing
To trudge a treacherous sea.

I promise you lost ones
That life is a story.
One that will provide you
With an ending of glory.

Put trust in yourself ,
As you have given your all.
Life will reward you,
But we must take the fall.

Life is no straight road,
It entails many bends,
But listen to my words
Sweet souls,
As you have not reached your ends.
This poem is all about the ones who feel that they cannot take life anymore, who feels the burdens and sufferings that life offers them. Just know that I hear you and that I see you. I believe in you all that you can do this , have faith. Please do enjoy !!
If I could still hold you,
In the palm of my trembling hand,
In the depths of my fragile heart,
In the whispers of my restless soul.

If I could still hold you,
In the shadows of sleepless nights,
In the echoes of forgotten dreams,
In the longing that seeps through my veins.

If I could  still hold you,
In the silence of empty spaces,
In the void that your absence created,
In the ache that lingers, refusing to fade.

If I could  still hold you,
In the fragments of memories,
In the pages of a love story,
In the etchings of a bittersweet past.

If I could still hold you,
In the tears that flow like rivers,
In the laughter that dances on my lips,
In the moments we shared, forever cherished.

If I could still hold you,
In the depths of my imagination,
In the realms of a parallel universe,
In the hope that defies all reason.

If I could still hold you,
In the symphony of our intertwined souls,
In the symphony that plays on, undeterred,
In the symphony that refuses to end.

Then perhaps, just perhaps,
Even in the absence of physical touch,
Even in the void that separates our beings,
Even in the vastness of this universe,

I could still hold you,
In the tenderness of my love,
In the strength of my devotion,
In the essence of who we once were.

For love knows no boundaries,
No limitations, no constraints,
It transcends time and space,
And etches itself onto eternity's canvas.

So if I could still hold you,
In the depth of my being,
In the essence of my existence,
Then know, my love, that you are forever mine.
Heidi Franke Sep 7
The sunshine melts in from the dark.
The summer sunflowers start their  morning yellow glow.
From the dark of nights despair and suffering.
The light of questioning wakes up,
I begin to ask why the pain?

Did I, or do I have the capacity to be optimistic of my will? Over matters of the past?

Shame, denial, self- soothing, trying to escape emotional pain through all varieties of addictive responses to life.

Understanding this new target for my heart, mind, and body gives me optimism of the will while
there will always be suffering.

I ask myself, what is my capacity? As the light rises in the morning I feel more air to breathe in.
Aware of the air inside of me whether in dark or light, carries some vessel of hope
to help ward off the strength of suffering.

I am not the wave. I am the ocean. The womb. Conceptualize
the possibilities in this morning dry landscape,
before abandonment. Conceptualize having what you need. Ease and compassion enters. Possibilities move through with ease and healing is within reach.

The capacity to heal needs warmth like the morning globe of light.
Reflecting on addiction with conversation between Deepak Chopra and Gabore Mate
Tapestry colored,
take the tick out of my heart and let me bleed out.
My eyes are shallow wells for a face that needs help.

                   A body that sees no reason

                                 taken back
                                 tied down
                              tucked under

                   A b-b-b-bomb blasting off


                    before the big hand could

                  cover her own clocked head.
Here no mantle is sacred.
ripples in our veil unfolding
each crease, streak and stain seals a moment:
Her love suppressed and Her faded light
the fabric of one life,
the symbol of many,
measured against the steps of
indefinite epitomes.
M Vogel Aug 1

Subdued,  into a constriction;

Young  adolescent spirits
were meant to grow..

meant  to  breathe.

The "Fires of Hell"
are the doings  of man
based  on the fears of man

and the need to control.

Little child,  running wild
"Forever"  is a stick
to beat you down

(Until the  wild  within you
no longer  makes a sound)

It is for Freedom's sake
that you have now  been
set free,  child

.       .       .

  In the "name" of the Father,
  you were first
  thrown to the ground

Yet..  it is  
in the Name of the Father

that Love came to town.


Your only rivers run cold
These city lights,
they shine as silver and gold
Dug from the night,
your eyes  as black as coal

Walk on by, walk on through
Walk 'til you run
and don't look back
For here I am

Carnival, the wheels fly
And the colors spin
Through alcohol
Red wine that punctures the skin

Face to face
In a dry and waterless place

Walk on by, walk on through
So sad to besiege your love..

So,  hang  on

<3 <3 <3
Man Jun 19
Setting snow on fire
The suffering, that is desire.
Burning, never needing starter
Only growing larger,
Not even wavered
By the laps of water
Carlo C Gomez Apr 11
I dreamt I still knew myself the moment you turned your face to me

you were about to enter a very personal space: a diary, a dream journal, a shoebox of love letters, a suicide note, the angry ramblings of a madman

Standing on the bridge where we're no longer suffering, the dream exhaled

and joy found eternity running over the closing frame, floating away in every direction where time intervenes
JKirin Feb 28
trapped in red – can’t escape this nightmare
not yet dead, but i’m barely aware
echoes burn, of your touch, your embrace
will you mourn as I fade without trace?
about suffering
old willow Feb 26
To live is to experience tribulation.
How can there be rainbow without rain?
To live is to experience mortal dusts.
How can there be rain without water?
To live is to experience life's rust.
How can there be rust without metal?
To live is to achieve happiness.
How can there be happiness without sad things?
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