#spirtuality
This darkened spray and mist,
It has every right to exist.
And it guides my hand to write,
Blending beautifully with my light.
Black and white particles that interlace,
I come to release this perfection case.
Words by Sylva Rose ©
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 9:16 PM UTC
Deep In the Universe of which we perceive but a fraction:
Exist an All encompassing Mighty Goddess of Compassion,
Whether scrying a Luminous Being immune to any curse,
Or a simpleton Women, with a few worries to nurse,
Whether at home, or some world's distant shore
Whether sentient ones in distant Heaven adored
Whether in silence or at war, Goddess we whisper or roar!
Wisdom sweet like the Nectar of a thousand peaches
Worlds at Peace, Passages to Endless Realms within our reaches
For Love, Peace above us to Crusades beneath
A Goddess Bold, a Heart of Blissful Eternal Heat.
We fight, and strikes red devils, black knights
For the ones innocent with truthful plights,
Our Hearts in our chest, Truly Only One Holy Crest!
Hearts and Minds United with The Goddess, Eternally Blessed.
Whether one lost or confused,
Whether sad, much trust found, lost then misused
One who speaks dearly forever to those abused
Goddess of Compassion, Light with All Hues.
Even when facing immeasurable defeat.
Whether in the Cold Hells frost or Hot Hells heat,
Whether trouble or sinking fast and deep,
Or perilous journey through Mountains; passages steep.
Compassion an elixir and sword of eternal heat.
With Wisdom together, an improbable defeat.
(edited 9th May)
Whether evil in the Battlefield or crawling evil hidden
Reading Ancient Wisdom or Knowledge Forbidden,
Even if a thousand vile voices slander in unison,
The Goddess of Compassion Eternally, is Warm and Singing.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC
You stick to me
Like tangled headphones
And Elmer's Glue
Without the rest of the area knowing a clue
From the reflection of my eyes
To the very bottom of my shoes
You're a good reason why I'm this heartfelt
I'm no hunter who kills Leopards for their pelt
But I hunt the darkest words in my soul
And I find the nearest ashes
To start again
Since you wanted to know a new me
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC
as i feel the earth crack underneath me,
i have to wonder if it's really the ground,
or is it coming from within.
i lost you there,
i remember my mother telling me,
if i get lost stay in the same spot until i am found,
i'm finding that as an adult,
this method no longer is applicable,
three years have passed,
i am now no longer able to stand here,
the further away you go,
the more frightened i become.
fear derives from ignorance,
ignorance can quickly manifest,
for me it manifested into a cloud,
not the gorgeous cloud one would hope for,
rather a acidic, foul, cloud
as if an atomic furnace stands nearby,
puffing it's smokestacks of evil, fear and hatred.
turning me into nothing but utter dust.
i must remember to be grateful,
i breathe
my heart beats
some are not quite as fortunate
as i have been lucky enough
to share something with another spirit,
that some will only dream of.
"unconditional love"; a wishful thought humans enjoy, it causes us to be thankful that our soul is still inside a physical shell.
"unconditional love"; provides hope that maybe, just maybe one day you will provide the emotions
words or eternal love we all crave but cannot provide
nor receive.
it's something we deserve but can't obtain or give.
not one ******* soul on this earth deserves,
to take their final breath with a broken, pained or shattered heart,
does death save us from our soul completely shattering.
when death comes our soul leaves our body in tact.
There must be some meaning to all this,
GOD knows our soul cannot be torn even one more time.
if you take anything from this diatribe,
through a morbidly dispirited writer,
everyone i have ever emotionally invested in,
is still as strong as the day I began to to give a piece of myself to them.
& sadly i need to learn to stop investing in those that give up on me,
like a incompetent stock broker i continue to invest in relationships,
that have no chance of revival.
Love &Art;, 1991,
Henk H.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
When I charge ahead
Try and forge my own way
Even my best laid plans
Are rubbed and washed away
In the ever shifting sands
And I'm left on hands and knees
Scrabbling round in the dirt
Bruised and battered I bleed
My Spirit crushed and hurt
So I'll climb back onto the solid rock
And root myself to the spot
Nourish my soul in the psalmists words
Terra firma, taking stock
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 4:19 AM UTC