How Tragic Is A Life Cut Short

An Ember put out before the Warmth is felt
A Light in the World that shines Never More,
Why do You feel the Need
The Unperishable desire that can only be Quenched,
When Your Light goes out

We tell You that People Care
But do We not realize
You do not See that,
You See
Only that Dreadful Need

To be Lonely is a Curious Thing,
The Days are Long and Empty
The Nights are full of Shadows and Unescapable Demons
Torment. Dread. Damnation.
Ever Flowing Near

I do Not speak of Those whose Live On,
But of Those Who Make
The Hardest Choice,
The Only
Choice

To Fight is to Suffer
Tooth. Nail. Tears.
Better to Not?
Why add more Suffering?
Then, Who can Blame You
When the Only Action You have
Is to Take Matters
In Your Own Hands

But You do Not See
Cannot See,
How this World Mourns
The Loss of Light
The Brightest,
A Life
That Means Everything

Look.
At the Beauty
Listen.
To the Music
Live.
For No One Can
Live For You,
No One Can
Replace
You.


My Greatest Friend, Do You Not See? Life May Seem Pointless, It May Never Seem Like It Will Get Better. But It Must. I Have Felt This. The Encompassing Loathsome Feeling. To Live Is To Feel Pain. Pain Must Not Overcome. Please, Find Me, When The Days Become Unbearable. I Will Be The Stalwart. The Silent. The Confidant.
All You Need In The Times When You Need.

We Shall Fight This.
But
Truly,
You Shall.
For This Light,
Your Light,
Is
My Light,
A Mother’s Light,
A Daughter’s Light,
A Father’s Light,
A Son’s Light,
A Light To All

Would You Deprive Us Of It?

Inspiration
Pure and Just,
Swiftly Comes

Thoughts of You
Thoughts of Us,
Tussled Sheets
Tussled Hearts,
Twined within Us
Twined with Art

Terrible Seasons
Terrible Nights,
Tore the Heartstrings
Tore Us,
Took the Light
Took my Sight

Inspiration
Pure and Just,
Briefly Lasts

Procrastination

The fettered beast which we hold in ourselves.
Of promises not kept.
A cunning voice within,
Whispers,
“This time is better spent to do not,
what is better left for another hour.”
“Tomorrow is a better day, is it not?”

We fight at first,
But honey drips,
from its silvery tongue.
We loosen our guard.
We crawl into the beasts outstretched arms.
The smell of lavender, chamomile,
of our favorite comforts, permeate our senses.
We relax ourselves into it,
pushing (or so we make ourselves believe)
the thing which we had to do far from our minds.
The beast, which bides it time,
which has us completely,
snaps its jaws shut.  

Eventually,
we escape the beasts grasp.
Battered and gasping for air,
we struggle to finish,
what we once had so much time to do.
We swear the beast off.
We say,
“Never will I Procrastinate again.”
Until, one day, we hear the whispers,
and smell the scent,
that comforting, cloying fragrance,
and the beast has us in its grasp,
once again.

I hate looking at my reflection,
in the cool, calm river stream.
The one we loved to look at,
the one that we shared
so many warm days at.
My reflection is a peculiar thing,
a lonely thing.
The sun hangs low;
reminds me of the days past.
We spent our time here,
talking, laughing, loving.
We would set by the shore,
on summer nights,
intertwined and watching the stars.
When autumn came
we laid in the dying leaves,
listening to the water flow by,
while our love grew stronger.
Winter chills tried to cool our love.
We set on a bench,
bundled together watching the crystal water,
as our breath steamed the air.
It's spring now.
I sit by the river.
A chill in the air.
I never had to worry about being cold before.
I sit here holding a symbol,
a symbol that has no meaning.
Not anymore.
I hate looking at my reflection,
in the cool, calm river stream.
Because, it reminds me,
that you're not here with me.

Fading dusky dawn
Echoes of night to end,
That move earthly spawn
And cause utterings to send.
None know what before them lay
Save High in the beyond,
To infringe upon the day
And witness what dawned.