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noren Nov 6
Trial tries us to check
the strength of our hope
and the sense of our surrender.
It measures our patience,
****** our passionate dreams
and leaves with a constant reminder: Gratitude.
The highs and lows, the valley views,
The good and bad, you win and lose,
You’re up and down, mountain to valley,
Praising then tearful, sad to happy.

But what happens when you get stuck?
You climb and climb but can’t get up.
In the valley you settle, in the valley you stay,
Less sun, less warmth, more shadow days.

But is there ever a valley without a mountain?
Is there ever an exit without a way back in?
Nothing’s forever - the good or the bad
If you can’t find your way, find another path.
Julian Caleb Nov 2
1
Hurt and pain.
There's much to gain.
Peace and love.
It's all the same.
Confusion and doubt.
We're not without.
We weep, we cry.
We plead, we try.
We laugh, we smile.
Only to be hurt
by one last trial.
Life is a lesson,
so learn it well.
Maybe, one day,
you can tell it's tale.
Haley Oct 26
You know what I mean?
It's that feeling you get when you observe something. It's slightly sad not to be a part of it, but still, there's an appreciation that it exists at all - that regardless of your absence, something beautiful continues on. And then you kind of think about how melancholic that is, but you don't really care enough to feel anything. You certainly don't care enough to change it.

You know what I mean?
It's like when you stay up all night, dedicated to the suffering caused by. homework that you already know you're never going to understand, anyways. Then the morning comes only an hour after your eyes have finally shut, just to wake you up to an exam you don't really have a hope of passing. At first- yeah, its heavy - it *****. But then again, why care? You can't do well, so instead you just don't give a sh*t. That way the weight's lifted. And yeah, everything feels kinda hollow, but that's better right?

I know that you know what I mean when I describe what it feels like to be drowning in the continual need to breathe.
You know what I mean when I describe what it feels like to wake up tired because your soul is constantly fighting off the cancer that is your own mind.
You know what I mean when I say that it's all too much.

So no, don't tell me again how much you understand. Don't tell me that you get it. It's different for everyone, so stop trying to feel the same way. I already see that you've felt it in your own way. I can see that you know what I mean.
I wrote this for my little brother, but I hope it helps you too.
Joshua R Wood Oct 17
I awoke in that dark forest, wounded...
My bow broken and bound at my wrists...
My thoughts and memories as hazy as the shadows around me
A soft mist settled around the trees...no breeze
Then I heard it:
Nachash...moving in the tree above me
I could only see the dark light shining off his scales
Imbalanced scales and skewed perspectives
A forked tongue
Dropping from the tree before me, Nachash reared up
I was surprised to find his face mangled, as though crushed
The bruise on my heel surged forth a memory
We stared at one another for some time - his hatred heavier than the mist
I don't know what my expression held for him...disdain? Contempt?
I felt no fear, and perhaps that frustrated the fallen form before me
"You have nowhere to run...nowhere to go, little king...you are bound"
I could not remember where I was or how I got here; how was I bound?
I couldn't see; not even beyond the trees - the dark and mist too thick
He saw me scanning
"Into the dark, child of ***?" he spat
"Yes, run blind...I will not stop you"
I sat motionless, trying to remember...
Running? No. I'm not here to run.
"You are alone in this...everyone has gone, leaving you..."
"Where is your great love, child of ***?"
I was missing something, but his words did not feel right...
I was not abandoned. No. A sacrifice was made, and the Light did shine at that.
Something about the Light...
"No more arrows, child, no more love...what awaits you outside this forest?"
He shifted closer, yellow eyes locking on to mine
"Nothing," he whispered, "nothing awaits you. Just a world that has passed you by."
The Light brought peace. I had peace.
"Why don't you speak, favored one, do your gifts fail you?"
The Light brought courage. I was not afraid.
"Where is your gifted mind, earthbound wanderer?"
The Light brought clarity. My hands...
They were not bound! I had bound them with my own belief - a lie.
I stood quickly. The serpent spun backward and hissed
"Who told you that you were free?!"
I spoke, finally, "The Light brings truth: that I am the enemy that allows your lies to persist...to bind me. No more, Nachash. I am loved and I am free."
I scanned the tree line again, believing...
The path was there, easily discernible - directly behind Nachash.
I moved around him quickly, heading for the path.
"All there is for you, maggot, is an uncertain future - in a world full of my influence!" I turned to face him.
His broken visage seemed worried...scared even.
My voice was as strong as my cleared mind, "My future is in ***'s hands, and there are no weapons - no words - that you can fashion to come against me. I belong to *** as does my future."
I turned to go, but paused and looked back
"Your future is in ***'s hands too, Nachash...and in all the greatness with which you were designed, I pity you and the future you've brought upon yourself."
Further into the dark forest I strode, invigorated. I did not look back.
JAC Oct 3
As crisply as new shoes
meet ancient pavement

confident and certain
but not yet broken in

we set off into a sprint
hand in hand, grinning

and we could run for miles.

The ocean's wave rolls
and beats repeatedly
carving a way into the soul
of this precipice
foaming at the mouth

no, wait....

that's just your tongue
coated in a miasma of
a siren song
you ******* liar  

sunbathing on my pyre
the whole town now congregates around
with devil-red
containers of gasoline
while your devil-red
lips act the fire

Only the clever witches
survived the trials

the whole town now dances around
feasting on the lotus petals
that root in the palm of your hand

look at them move
locked in each others hands
chanting
"This will bring peace"
while they nod and agree

"Pour more gasoline"
escapes between those sharp teeth

happiness is a moveable feast
at least your eating
like a queen

go ahead and **** the marrow
out of these innocent bones
tomorrow I will be gone

once I thought of you as Ithaca
now realize that these
are Troy's stones

it's time to sail back home.
Christopher Sep 9
I am Guilty

I don't deny that I, me, who you think of as a fool, am guilty of a belief
I was blinded it theived me.

Of course he killed them but he is all part of it anyways.
He's always been the killer but you always let him get away.

I accept my punishment and embrace my sentence.
Though I'm not the first.
So don't correct me in front of their presence

Funny how we forget it though like it's nothing yet we know it still happens.
I guess that why maturing to be me was the only way to become me, I reckon.
"The two thing that interest me about childhood. First is that it's a secret world that lives by it own rules and lives by it's own cuture. The second thing is that we forget what it is to be a child. Which is kind of exotic and strange." -Stephen King
Now that you’ve been sold, what thing
will bring you back to us?
Arches of waver-****, departuregrams
inform those on the freeway lam
and send us crashing gates and exit maps
as transit days dump rain
and what we know we’re in for gets too big.

Hurry to racing pits,
a bit of shelter huddled under heatlamps
pecked with pigeon dust & and odd late chills
that cracked the April. Plucky in
the clothing bone, we shiver, bide,
relent from marking make-up time
on coldwire sheets

We fold
and put work in our purse all wrong.
Some smarmy song New Yorks us, whinging on
where rent wars rage. Code-shifting blocks
of solace to the kept while crushing
others under debt - a glacial chill,
a respite, magnet phones left smartless,
calling on our wits
to ride those twists
through money-makers’ gauntlet.

Out of harm’s way, donning gowns
and Never’s hand-me-downs from
Stalling Leisure, Merry Ways - cinch up
and see what stays, what juice
the cosmic strain can free
when anger walls re-tighten down
to shape, or ****, without a sound.
Lily Jun 29
***, grant her strength to
Get through the day,
To simply keep breathing and
Not let anxiety and fear get the best of her.
You know what is best;
Please keep her safe in
Her hours of trial.
***, grant her courage.
A prayer to *** for my good friend Hailey, who is going into surgery today.
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