Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
When we wake up in the morning
on the other side.
The long night has ended
in Him we will abide.
He will carry us through the darkness
into the beautiful light.
The rejoicing of the angels
will be an awesome sight.

When we wake up in the morning
on the other side.
Where no more pain or sorrow
in Him we will abide.
His Love has brought us through the night
into the awesome light.
Where forever we will be with Him
In all His glorious might.

I have awaken in the morning
On the other side.
With a Joy beyond compare  
in Him I now abide.
His love has brought me through the night
Into the awesome light.
Forever I will be with Jesus
What a beautiful beautiful sight.
----------
Hallelujah to my Savior
Hallelujah To His name.
Hallelujah to my Savior
We will never be the same.

(Ending. Repeat first four lines of third verse)

Hallelujah. Evermore.
Hal-le-lu  jah.
(C) 09-12-2017
Song running through my head. Dedicated to my brother Ed.
My brother died Saturday Sept 9, 2017. See you later Brother Ed.
the weeping that makes me half a man
the rage that divides me greater still
are these the created or the original sin
that leads me down to the drunkards well
there it was that i had found you again
your hair changed, your dress less pretty
life lived through a jukebox country song
that preached no rights or saw no wrong

our greatest hour the one so fast to pass
leaving moments of perpetual memory
seeks a home for a weary vagabond soul
left grasping a belief for something more
full of regrets sustaining broken promises
time waits for no one and no one for us
Sunday comes down, the night still young
dance with me now jukebox country song
 Sep 2017 Alissa Rogers
Hannah
Entry ~
I know you're scared. You should be scared. You're taking a huge leap of faith leaving the only "home" you've ever known. But that home you built isn't four walls, and a solid tin roof. It's your soul. It's that thumping in your chest that keeps you awake at 2am. It's the memories you've stored, locked away tight behind steel bars, because god only knows if those bars weren't there those memories would hit you like the eye of a storm. Calm at first, sweet, but then painful, like shards of glass beneath your feet. And I know how much it hurts to leave. To walk away from so many unresolved things. To remove yourself from the lives of people you rely on, that rely on you. But part of living is knowing when to leave. It's knowing when your environment no longer suits the shell you're in. It's easy to tell when that chapter of your life begins. It starts with a slow depression easing its way in, and an unexplained restlessness. I know how much you fight it. The warning signs telling you it's time to go again. You are so afraid of being free, but your curiosity has its own needs. It was never a choice being free. It's always been a part of your destiny. I know you've felt that unexplainable presence easing your anxiety. And it's okay to breathe. It's okay to just be. To not know where you're going to be next spring. It's all a part of the plan. You need to have faith that those guiding you won't lead you astray. You are being protected, and I know you aren't religious, but when you feel like you've lost your way, fall to your knees, and pray. Look for the butterfly, and have faith that one small act of courageousness will set your life in motion. But you have to be willing to take action first. So flap your wings, and don't be afraid of the tornado that follows. You created your fear, and only you can survive in the wake of it.
I wrote this letter to myself. I'm preparing to travel again. In a little less than a month, I'll be on the road to Oregon. I don't have much of a plan this time, all I know is it's time to go.
**
 Sep 2017 Alissa Rogers
Remus
Our red string has is stretching too far.

You look into the world
wanting to be out there.

I want to cut it
let you go
I want you to be happy
but that won’t be with me

I snip the string
only for you to tie it back together
saying partners are commitment
while titles are not

As you smile at me,
I remember a love
I had forgot.
 Sep 2017 Alissa Rogers
JR Weiss
its four a.m. and the old man's ghost is with me as i pour through his work and he paws at my hem.

his phlegmy gravel whispers at me and i hear,  "cool down baby, the ink on the page is dead as a squirrel on the highway."

i read on and i feel his hand on my thigh and his warm beer dribbling on my dress as he promises verse that's all kinds of alive, if i want it.

he is old and slouched, used to younger women dazzled by words or of age ****** who will pay him mind in exchange for his last wrinkled ones,
but i am neither.

i leave his ghost where it lays
and i don't bother asking him to read my work.
it will live with or without him
even if it never sees the sun,
because sooner or later one of them will rise,
and i will have no time for the ghosts of old men.
Little brown girl
With eyes filled with pain
Didn't I teach you
Not to give love in vain
Haven't you learned
All life's lessons to give
To not cling to the past
But to let go and live?

Little brown girl
With eyes filled with guilt
Won't you break down these walls
Around you that you've built
You let anyone in
Then push everyone out
How can you live life
When you hoard all this doubt

Little brown girl
With eyes filled with sorrow
Don't you remember I told you
New life dawns with tomorrow
That your beauty is radiant
And your hearts made of gold
Just keep on pushing forward
And keep Gods hand to hold.
Sept 8. 2017
Next page