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Tatiana Oct 2012
Wind
I have never seen so much wind
Making trees uproot
And branches bow to their superior.
And the rain,
Oh so much rain,
Making rivers burst their banks,
And oceans surpass the dunes.
"Dear God, please keep us safe!"
A woman cries from inside a dark house.
As lightning strikes all around,
With the endless rain,
Flooding the house,
And the wind defacing the outside.
And we all wonder,
Why Mother Nature?
Why?
And a woman cries out again,
As the flood water is rising,
And the wind tears down the trees
The silent cry of
"Dear God help me!"
Could be heard
Through the darkest night.
Tatiana Oct 2012
The darkness masks ideas
People,
Animals.
Your perception is not
what it can be.
Everything’s gloomy
Unreal,
Chaotic.
But yet we strain,
Our eyes to see.
Every dark figure,
Notion,
Object.
That reaches out
With unsteady hands.
To steady our
Hopes,
Dreams.
In this dimly lit world,
We believe,
That these figures,
Are not what they seem.
Tatiana Sep 2012
Every emotion is clearly displayed
No matter how hard you try to mask it.
You don’t understand,
You can’t lie, and if you do,
Then why should I trust you.
Tell me why!
How long do you plan,
To lie to me?
keep secrets?
Play games?
How long will I put up with it all.
No more!
I’m done!
Please just leave me alone
Take your overwhelming force away.
If you come back, I swear,
There won’t be a cliff high enough for you to fall from,
To amount to the pain you have caused me.
Oh God help me,
I can’t stand her anymore!
She is the Devil,
That chose to hurt me.
Her secrets ****.
And I have never felt so betrayed
In my entire life.
In this web of lies
that encases this very companionship
that I have once felt,
and turns it into
a smoldering mess,
of secrets.
in their piles,
and piles,
of lies.
Tatiana Jul 2012
In the Dark of Night
She walks through the woods
Slowly, silently,
No welcome sound of leaves crunching underfoot
Or owls hooting from above
Just silence.
The woods darkest hour
A cloud passes over the moon,
The stars provide a dim glow
On the path she calmly walks.
She has been there before,
The path is worn down with countless footsteps
Her footsteps.
Then she sits,
In the Dark of Night
And cries,
Wasting her life away.
Tatiana Jul 2012
Failure is not kind,
there is no soft landing,
only a pillow covering your face
and cutting off your wind pipe,
till you feel you are done,
for once,
but you're not.
The pillow comes off your face
just before you admit defeat,
and you push forwards,
even if you have no will left inside you.
If you fail again,
you move on,
never learning that,
failure is kind.

— The End —