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ryn Oct 2014
Faced with the great shroud of encroaching unknown,
Cowering beneath dark clouds with nothing else but your own.

Just know that what gnaws on us is the looming uncertainty.
Fruits of undesirable truth may hurt but still it would set you free...
A brief chat with a friend earlier today made me realise this...
lauren Nov 2016
i have slept restlessly for  nights now, reliving the events that have conjured within the past 72 hours. i think to myself, how would anyone want to bring another into this world knowing the pain they will endure? yes. you will feel pain, indescribable, chest filling, body aching pain from your head to your toes. i wont try to paint a perfect picture of this world and let you down. hating me every moment for the things i never said. you will be beaten down by others, torn away from the connection you thought you had. you will sit in a coffee shop alone, biting your lip with anxiety, and he will call you in the dead of night pleading for you to keep him company once more. you will miss the way you looked at the world, with innocence and purity, reliving every moment of suffering and rewriting its pages. you will invest your heart in people, things that will only let you down. but sweet child this suffering that you feel will be soon over. it is how you overcome these situations of awkward confrontation and scandalous betrayal. because one day a bee will buzz past you and you will jump up and down like a child again, tugging on the end of your own dress, smiling. you will laugh once again because the perpetual love you feel from those who surround you with positive energy will fill the gaping hole of disappointment that the world has so willingly handed you. like i said, i will not paint a perfect picture for you, because every artist has their flaws, but they cover them oh so well. and you should never have to carry that kind of burden.

love always,
me
ryn Feb 2015
You are the light
That hides below the horizon
I await humbly for your rays
To illuminate this darkened season

You are the beacon
That would build me anew
Equip me with newfound notions
When dreams and hopes are far and few

You are the air
Of a fresh new start
Allowing this body another chance
At retrieving a brand new heart

You are the opportunity
Held my breath for far too long
Soon be granted to live again
And choose the right from the wrong

You are the day
Like many have too often said
Due to arrive after tonight
And embrace me as I laid in bed

You are the tomorrow
The promise of my brand new day
But there have been many tomorrows
That have come and gone away

You are my tomorrow
My future, bearing much needed balm
Maybe tomorrow I may finally realise
**That you would never ever come
It is the year of 2015.
War is ongoing,
society is changing,
secrets are being kept from us,
the human race,
is fading.

It is the year of 2015.
More animals are dying,
more children are crying,
Technology is all that matters.
Let's ignore how the world is crumbling?

It is the year of 2015.
More suicides, self harm.
more murders, crime,
it's not a false alarm.
Mental illness is huge,
men are being ignored,
where is equality,
of this, when will we get bored?

It is the year of 2015.
Police have turned evil,
the government are plotting,
kindness is scarce,
this generation is rotting.
Kids aren't being bought up right,
which will only make their children the same,
and so the cycle will continue,
until we're overpopulated by those inhuman humans,
and the world will go insane.

It is the year of 2015.
The planet is truly failing,
we are working towards nothing -
It is all a big dead end.
But "its fine!", they think,
or at least, so they pretend.
We're mistreating land,
destroying nature,
so why does no one seem to care?
That everything is in danger.



It is the year of 2100.
There is no more laughter,
no more beauty,
only fragments of once beautiful things.
Children no longer have fun,
instead their lives are being run.
We are all under compulsion,
it is all a big dysfunction.
Too little, too late.
Now we all pay for our own past mistakes.

It is the year 2100.
Look at the horror that is now,
I'm sure its made you regret not doing enough,
about how we lost sight of this world.
How people lost sight of themselves:
now everyone is isolated:
can't look eachother in the eye
we walk with our heads down;
some have never seen the sky.

It is the year 2100.
A "gentleman" is no longer,
and since seeing is believing,
no one believes there ever was such a man.
A "lady" has lost all meaning,
there is not one female that could behold such a title anymore.
What is even the point of humanity for?

Childhood.
'What's that?'
You may ask,
And you may know too,
if the twenty first century had allowed it,
childhood really could be beautiful,
and the fact you won't experience it>
I feel so very bad for you.


It is the year 2100.
I'm sorry for what could have been
I'm sorry you never got to see,
how beautiful the world once was.
Never had the chance to explore the world in all its glory.
Never had the chance of freedom.

It is the year 2100.
You see,
Because you live in the twenty second century,
sadly,
you have missed out,
on any chance of possibly living:
Because 2015 was the beginning of the end of the world.
So I'm sorry,
that your slot on this earth wasn't before then,
because anyone living in the world you're in now,
has been born to die,
and for no other reason than that,
because the life you've been given,
is a life not worth living.


-Jazmine MacIntyre
01.09.18
The message here, is basically, ae need to start trying to put this world back together, because if we don't and we just let everything carry on as it is, there won't be  a future. It will be only chaos. You can always do your part to save the world, if everyone did there part, it would no longer need saving, it would only require maintaining.
Autumn moves fast through the tunnel of love
Push from the top; bottom falls from above
The dangling leaves are flexing about
Dreaming of hope is a nightmarish shout

Cackle of ghouls; a shivering spine
And all that is due will be due in due time
Whispering wind softly kisses my cheek
Lifetime of searching; know not what I seek

Darkness emerges; light fading away
Tried to hold on but no one can stay
Feeling alive only once I am dead
Listen but don't hear a word that is said

The roar of a flame, the warmth of the light
Fireball streaks interrupting the night
From ashes we rose; to dust we return
Heart made of ice will not sooth what’s been burned

Holding my breath and not rising for air
Promise to no one the nothing I share
Hugging and squeezing a cuddly toy
Faded reminder when I was a boy

Roar of a racing car traveling fast
Linear stories that live in the past
An afternoon stroll through the paths in the woods
It wasn't enough when it’s all that I could

Didn't regret not regretting a thing
Perfectly still while I sit on the swing
Lazy and careless; the problem I tackle
Forever I'm chained without any shackles

Future and past presently now amuck
A free man who's also imprisoned and stuck
Roaring, the waves speaking softly to me
Shouting a message using secrecy

Cackling rooster call to end the day
Become an adult but your parents can't stay
The ending's begun and beginning ends near
Enveloped in fog; then it all became clear

Through stutter and stammer, I clearly can speak
The world’s strongest man; I am fearful and weak
Worldly observer, I travel through life
Don't leave my house; alone with no wife

A peacock, with confidence strutting my stuff
I have had my fill but not yet had enough
Nothing I fear but much fear have for it
Blowing out candles that never were lit

Bellowing cheers of "hip-hip hooray!"
Round of applauds for those who've died today
Subtle blow from a blatant attack
A gift you are given; already took back

Slapped with audacity right in the face
Composed with the utmost politeness and grace
Without allergy, still my body reacts
While calmly I sit through a panic attack

Telling a lie 'til it becomes truth
Speaking with stature his words are uncouth
Deafening silence rang shots from the gun
Finished a race that has not yet begun

The Golden Rule encased in rust
I did what was needed but not what I must
Can be anything but yet nothing you are
Traveling often but didn't go far

Properly set for no expectations
Biased perception began at creation
Feet on the ground and head in the clouds
Displayed and *****; exposed in my shroud
Written - April 6, 2017

All rights reserved.
ryn Oct 2014
tell me...

will tomorrow bring,
     all the things
i'm longing...
    stowed upon its elusive wings,
tirelessly beating
    and fighting
to show what's dangling
and hanging...
          ready for the picking...

                          awaiting...
such time so it could begin its need for unloading,
                   delivering
                                      and dropping,
its gleaming
                      treasures
on those who are deserving,
        in no way lacking
so they could be at the receiving
end of this pressurising,
           inking
                      of dwindling
                                        words...

carel­ess thoughts conceived only to
              fuel
           my deranged ramblings...
incessant mutterings of a shattering
                         mind...

           bending backwards, almost breaking,
         risking...
the chance of ever fully
                                          mending...

hopin­g and praying
   for a sentence that's pending
dawn's approval...

allowing
   the rising
of the sun...
                  paving
            ways for thriving
                                          wishes,
unbarr­ing
                  gates for soaring
                                                dreams, unlocking
                   latches,

relieving...
the heightening
                     anxieties of grieving
                                                        ­ hearts.

constantly whispering
                               utterances, promising
good will, happiness
                              and titillating
                                                     ­ sanity.

we're thinking...
     the earth is spinning,
         the moon is setting,
     so the sun must be rising
                         but...

             tell me,
                           tomorrow...

                                *is it coming?
ryn Oct 2014
Yesterday saw us through in a stroll
Unaware of the marathon we've begun.
By day's end we found ourselves bearing future's toll
Realised we were in it to secure today's sun.

Today saw us slightly worn thin
Indulgent naïveté in this marathon we've begun.
Into each other's strengths we lean
Hoping to see the end in tomorrow's sun.

Tomorrow may see us out in the cold
We may not be done with this marathon we've begun.
At opposite poles save for the binds that hold
But still planting hope in future's sun.

The future might see each breath to be drawn
In this marathon we've begun.
Only to be swallowed by each new dawn
Inadvertently still chasing the sun.
Inspired by Sara Bareilles' "Chasing the Sun".
One can only hope for a brighter tomorrow.
ryn Oct 2014
my steps are just attempts
to stow away
on the sails, on future's mast

as I walk away,
leaving behind the trail
of my unsuccessful past...
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