"The night she bathed into the light
Came with the blessings of your heart
And strong she was to your good sight,
So fragile in appearances yet so bright!

That light came slowly caressing the night,
Embracing her soul for the fairest fight,
So strong, still, too fragile for the part
Written on walls and danced to the right

Height. Looking up, stare into the blight
Of all sorrow ed-souls I saw how you fell apart
And it ached my soul, what solutions, right
To find? What Word for you... crave straight. "

Music to...

©Theodora Oniceanu

Sometimes we laugh
Sometimes we cry
The people around us
Wonder why
What makes us happy
What makes us sad
What makes us smile
What makes us mad
And that's alright
If they use the information well
To help us through
Days of hell
Sadness is a sort of spell
That transports us
Back to the shell
Of what we were
Before the sadness came to life
And doing all we could to survive
Cut off a bit
Split
I try today
A return trip
So afraid
Of all my truths
Of yesterday

I'm caught in a forest
My glass frame is jagged and shattered
I give in to a distant call to rest
And I search for somewhere to lay my head
The forest is quiet
A whisp broke me and left
And I'm alone to care for a grove
I am broken, I am scared, I am upset
Something ahead of me
Trapped in the overgrowth
It can't be!
My armor, my friend, my beautiful cog!
Oh! What have I done to you?
I check it's inner workings
Gears clogged with vines and branches
Iron rusted through
Until I wander deep enough
And I find the source of my distant whisper
My hearth
Once a great and burning flame
To move my cog so powerfully
So patiently
Subserviently
I climb in
And flames long dead begin to burn once more
It melts my glass
And smooths me out
And I lay my head to rest
I close my eyes
When I open them again
I see through the juggernaut's eyes
And I burn so hot from my pain
The overgrowth burns away
Rusted parts shatter away
A plume of smoke billows from me
I am a cog once more
I feel so heavy
So tired
But oh so powerful
A great machine finds me in this grove
And offers me a place in it's inner workings
Other cogs inside, made of shining steel greet me
We grind and toil away
And I feel so at home
After harming and being harmed by a beautiful whisp
Who I now understand never truly understood me
Nor did I understand them
They fled from me
Left me so alone
But I am strong once more
I am so tired
I feel safe and complacent
So I will rest and let my body fall into routine
I will sleep
I will obey my new machine
I will dream

1.


2.


3.

Life tells of many virtues
Being humble is one of the few,
But life’s yet to teach me
how Humble works in lieu.
I do not know
How and when to have
Consciousness of what I ought to be,
Being true is what they ask of me
But honestly,
that is often a lie.
A terribly costly fee,
It is to be free;
And as life serves its many tumbles,
There’s where anger
Rolls in with giant rumbles,
That’s where, as I stumble
I learn not to grumble;
And maybe that is where
Humble lay,
Amongst all that jumble.
It confuses me,
Telling someone else
They’ve done splendid
While most days I stand waiting,
While all you wanted
Was a praise or few,
Is that being humble?
I do not understand,
Though many have told me
I should join the Humble band,
And say how little I brag,
But little does it register
There’s nothing to yap on about,
So is it being humble
Or is it me trying not to fumble
With how insecure I am.