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Rai May 2012
like icecream
So sweet and yet
So cold
You are melting in moments
Before heaven excapes you
Bliss
To feel
To know
To reason with self
That all the reasons you have chosen are you own
So cold like ice
Touch me
With words
Between sentences
That surely couid never belong to just one soul
Rai Dec 2016
The cracks in your story are illuminated within reason
And your truths are so transparent
Even I can see beyond the void
And past the screen you hold up to hide behind
Sunsets have no need to hide beauty
Nature basks in truth
It is only mere man that wanders aimlessly
Wanting a place where his truth is hidden
Come I beg
Drown me in your desire for a life less meaningless
Oh how I desire it more my friend
And how the sunsets beauty no longer sets me free from my suffering
Souls scream
Hearts are fragmented, crumbled and left to scatter on the breeze
Your scars are unique
And I my friend will trace with my finger tip along each one
Like a dot to dot
And you will show me your truths
You have tried to stay hidden
But I'm sorry you have failed
There are a few
We are special
We are unique
Maybe we are your scars made into reality
Maybe we are your madness running wild
Write a story of unburdened love
Create an art piece
Before it crumbles
What was it that you desired?
Who were you portraying before you lost self to the breeze?
You may like to believe my friend that transparency does not exist
That your not made of glass
That you will not break
But break we must at the end of every day
So that tomorrow in sunrise the sharp edges may morph and surrender
Once more hiding within
The man excapes into the sunrise too fearful
And yet does not realise
The truth before his own eyes
Inspired by a friends write
Arthur Blank Mar 2022
There's no love today.
I sit on a distant shore,
Watching waves throw shapes,
Stark blue and emerald traces,
In them my heart excapes.
MT Browder Oct 2023
sky renders every hue
autumn trees give wonder
tropical waters bleed blue
irish hills nay chose
their love songs of green
nor desert's soft tune of rose
mountains, heavy with gray
a boy's innocent embarrassed blush
nothing excapes the Creator's brush

— The End —