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Axion Prelude Aug 10
I seethe within what echoes disdain for all things wanting, because I can't seem to keep what's there to begin with

The desire to purge prior prose and start from scratch beseeches my mind to scrawl what dire nuance calls my name, but I don't look it in the eyes

It's my demon; my voice that resonates deep within; the call of all things mired by fate-less whispers of what's more, or right

But I know, it can't be how I desire. What can be will only come when time sets right the means to seek it out; to reach for whatever may be reaching back at me

I can't move forward unless I know for certain what's there would not bring more desolation. I am a coward, but am I human? I ask myself that every waking moment

I crave nothing more than to be normalized and reverberate with twining string of fate that actually calls my name, not the sour tones of dissonance and disdain as before

I crave reality to be my own, rather than reality to own everything I can not

I seek, eternally.. I find nothing but light that touches the surface, but never does the sun actually rise.

Bring me to my own horizon, bring me fate, bring me peace..

I hope..
zebra Nov 2017
i was looking at an old and tattered black and white photo of my grandfather
a man i never knew and wondered about

his existence
like a horizon of dissolution
his soul enshrined in my own
and like him and all creatures
ultimately i remain defenseless
against realities magnitude

while my father loved me as a child
he grew unkind over the years
and we where set bitterly against one another other
his tyranny and my disobedience

as i gathered strategies craft
by machinery of thought
and festering gall
he, the bully
got bullied back
by me and old age
as we in tandem set fire
to his sadistic golden age of disillusionment

and here we are now the living and the dead
still locked in a grudge
a recurring spirit of revenge
in a valley of tears
before i myself join the ephemeral legions
in a pile of stones and ashed corpses

are we not
a procession of long struggles and short pleasures
a history of terrors and creatureness
stooges bound by the wheel creation
crucified by desire
and the apathy of obliterations aftermath
an archeology of death
ruin upon ruins

has God
sinned against man
or bestowed his grace
perfect and beautiful
beyond measure
yet to be discovered
in an alternate reality?
Rafał Jul 17
Searching for a soulmate on a wide barren desert
Combing through the papers, looking for the answers.
And I'm always lonely like the fallen on Mount Everest
As I keep on fighting cold and the unfriendly weather.

Tell me whether I should move or should I stay,
It's hard to say;
I probably need to take a breath, but I gravitate
Towards the bottom of the planet -
My spaceship has crashed
And I don't know where I landed
Now I live as an outcast.

My vision is blurry, I got snow in my eyes
I cannot breathe, my lungs are filled with ice
Is it a dream or a vast paradise
To be content within or be content outside?
World on my shoulders as I proceed to move
Row to the shores of the ocean of bloom
Watch the horizon as it slowly burns
Each one of us awaits our turn
There's no return.

I lived and loved someone
I suppose I loved the lie
But I officially closed that door
I hear you clearing everything
before storming out
I don't need to open it;
I'll always hold onto the memories
And I'm super glad that I moved on
I won't pretend
I don't need anything toxic
I've locked that door and
threw away the sodding key
A chapter I'm glad that's closed
Now, I can breathe and focus
on me
What's done is done...

Another chapter closed...
I'll keep my eye on the horizon.
Be back soon!
Lyn xxx
Jamie Riley Aug 29
The black horizon stares
at me like a fatal wound.
I might now know to
respect the sunrise.
The void will always
brighten eventually.
“Some task of grandeur symbol yet be done,
Not unworthy men that strove for tutelary,
The stars begin to twinkle from boulders afar,
Is that the demise of an allure on the horizon?

What was once a fiery passion of desire?
Procured in the end with passionate love,
Once flaming red fervent orange propensity,
Thunder and the sunshine cloudless all above,

You can find pleasure in the waves of the sea,
If you refuse to let a friendship of love perish,
Then there is still hope that the love will live on,
But will it be of one or of both the past spirits,

Hiatus brink ocean alongside lulls me to sleep,  
If you feel you can reach up and grab the stars,
Each star shall be used as a stone stride,
Climb to meet with the passion afore horizon,
Beauty that once ignited my heart and soul"
By Andrew Guzaldo 09/17/2018 ©
By Andrew Guzaldo 09/17/2018 ©     #Poem#123
But the many words
I want to say to you
will hide within the
recesses of my mouth
like the fiery sun kneels
beneath the vast horizon.

But maybe in the pale light
of the midnight moon,
my words will be whispered
gently as you sleep,
and you will dream of me
and the words I wish to say.
vemod | Swedish | (n.) a tender sadness or pensive melancholy; the calm feeling that something emotionally significant is over and never will be back
Kmary Jul 30
It is not the fear of aging that scares you;
it is the fear of never turning back

But my love, you are not a single serving
with a best-used-by date

You are fucking stardust,
a glow that continues to outshine

No amount of change or time
can drown out your inner-light

And my love, there is so much on your horizon,
and oh so much more for you to become
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