#relic
"In the stillness after ruin, only the ash remembers."
Ash‑quiet drapes the ruins;
a lone vestige of silence
gently cradles the last fragile
breath of what once burned bright.
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 9:59 AM UTC
I saw a butterfly capturing colors,
Colors of rainbow, colors of flowers, colors of stones.
Projecting the spectrum of lights,
Creating a mesmerizing moment.
Spreading the chromatic wings,
Instilled with vibrant spirits.
A spellbinding millisecond,
An ambience of shiny arrays.
I was unblinkingly still,
A twinkling relic.
Dec 11, 2025
Dec 11, 2025 at 3:32 PM UTC
“I'll find them"
I say as I come across another corpse
The blood leaking out of the open wounds inflicted upon them.
Turning their intellect into a poison
that eats them inside out.
They're gone now (blanched from existence),
I look around
And see the bones on which
My “exceptionalism” stands.
Unnoticed by most
but I sense their ghosts in the spaces that should be filled.
The same system that killed my kin,
demands I cannibalize them
to sell me as a relic - a reminder of what was
But I never forget - or forgive - a murderer.
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 7:02 AM UTC
Once a hand held me,
now I rust in silent dirt,
spikes dulled by lost wars.
Feb 14, 2025
Feb 14, 2025 at 6:25 PM UTC
I am ready
to ring your rib
around my wrist
in triumph—
the faintest of relics
enliven me. My lips
still layered
as in the night you lost them.
I hope to hammer
your heart
& stuff its soil
in the sutures
of your skull;
I want to call that
the shadow to
kintsugi;
I want our memories never
to seep; to set
them up for decryption.
Unloving is a study—
consider an archaeologist’s
tentative hands
demystifying an artifact
once treasured for its secret
& leaving no spots
behind.
Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 11:24 PM UTC
i wish the world was still an adventure
step through the portal, in search of new worlds
to make fresh memories with old friends
now i stare at the treasures ive collected over the years
rusted and broken, clockwork falling apart, blade dull
legacy of once glorious days.
Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 3:13 AM UTC
Flicker, flicker to the patter of the rain
So fragile, desperate to live, the tiny little flame
Long shadows cast onto the stone wall behind
Lighting up the writings, the words on the walls
Describing the anthem of a nation forgotten
Sole legacy of once glorious days
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 7:15 PM UTC
Observe a masterpiece the lonely relic
foreshadowing judgment eclipsed despair.
Hanging disappointed, art held ransom,
childish tantrum freely shared.
Refrain, restrain, what some condemn,
reluctance alleviates anxiety gained.
A musical symphony, poetic warfare,
so let me gently remind you, friend;
Even at last gasping breath
I am fiercely lethal with my creative pen.
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 7:07 AM UTC
You can hear them if you listen
When the wind blows in the night
The people who once lived here
Who are gone now, out of sight
The buildings, many shuttered
Housed ten thousand at it's peak
Now empty, vacant, skeltons
Once vibrant, now, so bleak
Silver once was mined nearby
Thousands flocked here for the chance
To strike it rich, be wealthy
Uninvited to the dance
For all that comes with promise
The devil comes as well
With money comes temptations
As the small town starts to swell
Business and homesteads
Spring up where once was none
Lawlessness is rampant
The law is by the gun
Saloons, hotels, and harlots
Soapbox preachers, grab your purse
We all cannot be winners
That is just the boom towns curse
Like a zephyr in the desert
A boom town changes in a flash
Prosperity will vanish
And so does all the cash
The boom town dies as quickly
As a flower in the snow
Scattered now back homeward
With nothing left to show
The earth takes all she's given
The buildings may still stand
But, the mines are all now empty
There's no value to this land
Listen to the voices
The wind let's them sing out
You can hear them in the darkness
That's when the locals all come out
A ghost town is a relic
It shows the best and worst of man
So, listen to the wind now
Hear their stories if you can
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
who'll hold your memories
recite them like a fabled story
a land
where you held hands
leaving a long trail under infinite sky?
who'll hold your urn
enshrine it as a priceless relic
when you exile
far far away
where heaven is called a home ?
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
Finding stolen jackets in my room
catches me off-guard
"Oh! hello cozy reminder of
the boy that toyed with my heart.
I forgot I stuffed you
in this corner of my drawer..."
I don't want them, really.
But I can't bring myself to throw them away.
Or give them back.
I know I should keep them.
These were priceless at one point;
they feel like intruders in my life now.
But sometimes it snows.
Then I can see the warmth those reminders
once provided.
I pull on layers of memories
to have a snowball fight
with my sisters.
I reuse. I reframe.
Which is all we can do
With relics of our pain.
We apply what we've learned,
From pain, to our lives;
We wear these lessons
Like jackets.
We grow.
Pain is only a teacher
that can aid us now
if we let it.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 11:27 PM UTC
Slouched atop the bookshelf resting his fluffy head
against much loved Rudyard Kipling's finest.
He watched the day to day stories of King Anthony
'The child ruler of the world' and his beloved younger sister Anya.
Avoiding arguments downstairs in the dying segments of daylight,
the boy's reassurance to Anya showcased rare moments of humanity
not seen by Little Weissel's beaded eyes since occupied Holland.
Amongst his stuffing was still memories of his first best friend,
in which many a day was spent quietly hiding away,
listening to the sound of boots roaming around the house.
King Anthony reached his hand out in full view of the aged bear's face
and plucked him from his perch.
As warm as the bear felt to him, he felt to this plush relic, whose eyes
would dilate in the melt of such moment if only they could.
From his arms passing down to her trembling ones;
she was looking for solace in the wake of mother and father's quaking
voices in the kitchen.
For Little Weissel it seemed like 'what was old is new again'
and now after spells after neglect he was experiencing a second
lease of life.
As the war downstairs fizzled out into quiet evening, King Anthony and Anya were locked together, both tenants of sleep with
Little Weissel just as lovingly clung to as the first moment he'd been clutched.
Maybe in the new harsh terrain, the scabby mass of the little bear
could once again feel the need to be needed as any good plaything deserves to be.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 4:44 PM UTC
Derelict, decrepit,
Just a waste of space
A relic from a different age
One who'd run the race
An eyesore
Gives the place a name
Represents a time long past
It's no longer in the game
A stiff wind would take it down
It's not worth a single dime
Take it down, demolish it
It's enemy is time
A single pane of glass is left
Cracked from side to side
In fact it's cracked the whole way through
As tall as it is wide
The others are all boarded
Keeping out nothing at all
The only thing the wood does
Is act as canvas to them all
Graffiti covers every space
That is left standing here
It used to be a factory once
That made a local well known beer
BUT ON THE OTHER SIDE....
Inside the building squatters sit
Derelicts, wastes of space
The building is their home for now
Away from the rat race
Eyesores, hidden in plain sight
Humanity at it's worst
That is the image given them
Because of addictions thirst
A stiff wind would take them down
So thin and frail are they
Protected by a building that
A storm could blow away
One side thinks it awful
The other, thinks it's good
An eyesore and a fragile shell
Of old bricks and glass and wood
But...for one plain window
Separating worlds apart
A crack runs through the window
It is the buildings heart.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
(I give to him a relic given to me by my fellow mage Osiris.. The relic of the star tear.. This is your prayer.. Become the angel of the stars..)
After cutting through the endless darkness and seeing it bleed light I spoke my final prayer to the God or being higher than any star in the sky. I was on my knees as the demons and devils were closing in on my final shining glow. I was the last of our race. We were going into the darkness shining and glowing. But my prayer had been answered by an angel of the stars. This angel was a dragon that had wings of blue star light. He painted our sky blue again with his light and erased the darkness above. Our sun shined through once again burning away all that was wicked and evil. He then looked into my eyes and spoke through them. I could hear him speak to me through his eyes. " I give to you a relic given to me by my fellow mage Osiris.. The relic of the star tear.. This is your prayer.. Become the angel of the stars." His wings then shined so very bright as he lifted off into the sky leaving behind a cut of light in the sky. The relic he gave to me shined star blue and red. I noticed my sun blade and moon blade were glowing the same colors as the relic. I picked up my soul swords and sheathed both of them. I could feel everything around me now. Where I stood the grass begin to grow. Flowers followed then trees and forest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and felt the wastelands of our planet needing to be cleansed. There were then thousands of tornados of light that swept all of the lands followed by massive super hurricanes that covered the entire Planet. I was cleansing our world by simply thinking about it. I was at the center of it all. Our world is now reborn. And I must now give it away. I will be part of the stars now. I will dive into the cosmos as a light that will forever shine away all that is evil.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
My world, a relic,
My hopes, unnavigated,
The sky transports my dreaminess
The wind wins me with drunken delight
Nothing actualized
From my deluge of desire,
Couldn't cast a soul
With my far aspirations.
I celebrate the vibrant joy
Of the cosmic poet,
Savoring every nuance of his love
I admire his formidable face
As a ruthless destroyer of wrong
I embrace his elixir -- love,
His death, suffering and solace--
Likewise.
I cherish his sparkling vigil,
His endless luminosity,
Then again
His opaque darkness
As appalling as that may be
I honor his luscious love
That mingles, matches, unites,
As well as the rifts
That rip up the heart
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
yeah, but you didn't love me
"who says I didnt"
and I pull down my vneck and show you all the scabs that were once hickeys
you say you're sorry but your apology sounds like you're asking me to pardon you for not remembering whether or not you put them there and I swear to God I will never lover another man like I'm shivering in the middle of winter again
i wrote my best poetry about you
I've never been afraid of the dark but I'm terrified of you
my tummy growls all the time and you think I'm forever hungry
but the honest to God truth is
my stomach has trained itself to clench in desperation whenever your deception hurts too much
and I am nervous around anyone who shares our world because you've never spoken mine but I've muttered yours like a mantra and in the end Im the fool and you the stop.
i keep saying I've had enough, I'm leaving
but each time I do, I conjure up the image of you laying in your bed dancing to songs I can't fathom to call mistakes
and it makes me smile so much how adorable you are just then
and I pack all the shame and misery you've poured onto me,
I put you and all the horrendous things you've done before me and stay
cause even though you've done nothing but make a mockery , a fiend out of me
still
the last thing I want to do is hurt you
i am so hurt and because on numerous accounts I have dropped to my knees ripped to shreds on your honour
like your word is a holy relic and
godforbid I go against it
yet all you've ever done is take and take and take
chunks of me like I'm not disabled
myself in need of things to keep me whole
I walk a line of shame cause everyone who knows us call be a mirror bc I'm always bending for you like light
never questioning why and
all you ever do is reflect my flexibility to a few that judge me anyway
I think I'm done being yours
(who am I fooling I never really was , you never really coined ownership at me I just kept begging for your acceptance and it never came)
but now I'm as hurt as America was when Benedict betrayed her and it hurts real bad I can feel it in my veins like the roots of a lemon tree protruding out my thinning arm skin
and I can't even show anyone
cause they'll just laugh and whisper behind me
like this has been a secret everyone was keeping from me
you've fooled me into the smoothest heartbreak I begged myself not to suspect
and I owe it to my dad not to let myself be that girl for you anylonger
you've broken my heart in angles ever set squares couldn't fathom and im barely able to breathe
I pray God gives me the strength not to go back to you cause this is the most humiliation I can ever endure
-Allie
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 6:20 AM UTC
Loneliness is pages splayed across the bed
It is clutching the empty space beside me
Writhing in agony, knowing very well
You're not there
Loneliness is having my blood run cold,
My feet solidly planted to the ground
Every time I hear the unfamiliar ring
Of my (prosaic) name
Loneliness is basking in the sweet but transient
Moments of companionship, when your supple
Lips brush mine (and sparks flit down my back)
Knowing they will soon be relics
Loneliness is donning heavy, splotched clothes
Sodden from last night's tears and broken memories
It is having your mind plagued with yesterday
Loneliness decays your today
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC