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Within darkness, there lies darkness
..
For Through the cracks, it seeps through the levy
Submerging the smiles, the laughs and the love
But it is not the storm that shatters our windows
Like diamonds cutting through the air
It is screams of the mothers and children
That has lured the Serpent out of her lair
It is not the storm that swallows us whole
It is our ignorance, our sin
Ohh* My fellow humans;
It is time to blow out the candles
And let
The darkness

In
© 2013 Bilal Kaci
I'm not simple.

I am January - cold and grey and ugly.
I am February - short and dark and gloomy.
I am March - fierce and complicated and bipolar.
I am April - warm and sweet and full of colour.
I am May - sunny and blooming and frenzied.
I am June - the scent of summer and hope and the feeling of freedom.
I am July - the burning sun and the sand beneath your toes and the sun in your hair.
I am August - the sea waves crushing against you and the lazy shade underneath a tree and the grass tickling your feet.
I am September - pouring rain and gales and the fog creeping in.
I am October - red and brown and orange, the crunching of dry leaves and that the darkness that's falling.
I am November - distant and lonely and drowning.
I am December - the frost on the windows and the gentle snowflakes, and the dunes of snow, and the freezing coldness, I am December - decaying.

I am not simple. A little complicated, messy.
Can you take me?
 Jan 2014 unsolvedemotions
Dana
I compose to you the following from the darkness of a room.
I inhale a deep breathe filling my lungs, releasing it out with an anguish as I mouth of thee.

He who turned this reality into a dreaming state.
Who taught my heart to dance to tip-toeing beats, synchronizing with his.
Who set fire to a friendship and gave meaning to the music I love.
Who raised the bar high and portrayed perfection.

I compile these few words for you from the darkness of a room that once witnessed the rays of the sun.
For he struck a lighting beam the day he entered; and warmth ran through my entire body.
Yet, I shiver now from freezing winds and my thoughts never fail to recall thee.

He whom I said my farewells to and guided outside the room
Who was steered elsewhere as I claimed it was charcoal and not a heating flame. Never knowing, it was the passion that gave blood to my cheeks, curves to my smile, and music to my beating heart.

And it was time to wake up once more from the land of dreams to a bitter reality.
Back to a world with watery eyes resisting to surrender, lungs gasping for each breath he once took away, and a heart that morns over thee.

He who turned me into a poet; writing for the freedom of a stolen heart.
He who parted me with a flare that's now there resulting burn marks; scarring me with memories.
He who embodied my "The One".
He who granted me the taste of perfection; who can ever match up to thee??

He who turned me into a poet... & I shall forever write about thee.

— The End —