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RBWhite Jun 2018
Así,como la bruma del viento arenoso,
La sirena del desierto se despide,
Lo hace maldiciendo los recuerdos,
Sus caderas sinuosas,ojos claros,
Que una vez me imploraban piedad,
Y a la otra se resignaban al suplicio,
Me dejan para no volver,
Ella oye y baila sobre mis penas,
Cabellos de tormenta tropical,
Su voz tenáz y cruel,
No quiere que la siga,
Pero, ¿Cómo no?
Es lo único que he hecho,
Sus pasos son los propios,
Nunca ha habido diferencia,
Déjame entrar en tí una última vez,
Juro no hacerte llorar,
Ni abandonarte por el mar,
Aunque ya lo haya hecho,
Y me hayas perdonado cada vez,
Vuelve a mí, mi alma,
Sirena de mis mitos,
Crees en pecadores,
Pero nunca me pudiste perdonar,
He aquí un forastero sátiro,
Que no cree en nadie, ni en nada,
Pero consigue religión y sueños,
Cada vez que curas mis heridas,
Que me alimentas y acunas,
Que me enseñas y reprendes,
Que te entregas y me reclamas,
No conozco a más nadie,
¿Por qué irme?
Tengo a la muerte cerca,
Y quiero confesarme a tí,
Como lo he hecho constantemente,
Para escuchar tu dolor,
Hundirme en la miseria de no merecerte,
Eres mis ojos,
Eres mi sentir,
Sirena del amor,
Sirena dulce,
Sirena de la ternura invalorable,
Sirena de la melancolía,
Llévame contigo.
Tammy M Darby Mar 2015
and cross my heart
When the ghosts of the past appear
and the dark nightmares start
There is no respite to be found
Pity finds no escape
As I am completely surrounded
By the shadows of fate.

So claw the dark demons;
Sharp nails,
Out of my suffering mind.
Forced now to surface
Once held captive in time

So I say my prayers
Listening to tragic sighs
Prepare for the onslaught
Close my eyes

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Mar. 15, 2015.
Tammy M Darby Mar 2017
Drunk with madness and spirits
With the devil, they whirl

Dressed in daggers pockets ring with coin
The skies feared the words of the night birds’ song
The cold brook whispered of blood on the rocks
The half-moon bowed to the Lord of dark

Hand in hand with the Horned God dance
Frenzied and ensnared in evils trance
Kneel to him who fears the touch of light
So passed the willing victims
And their souls lept high

Wayward souls of the conscious world
Drunk with madness and spirits
With the devil, they whirl

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Mar. 13, 2017
All Material Stored in Author base
meGaThOr Mar 2018
me rich Great Again
follow dreams to a place where freedom
ebuffed my  businessman

Mar-a-Lago Club
resort is mine
to escape the spotligh
Our culture has gotten
too mean and too rough,

More weighty details are scarce
Berwyn speech, without a hint of irony
deep love and respect”

dropped slightly as my race tightens
after a plagiarism controversy
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2017
As the redeemed of Jesus Christ, if we are ever to find true refreshment in our desert wanderings, it will be as we choose to dwell in God’s presence and in the newness of His daily mercies through faith. Our trials tend to force us, like pushy but invaluable friends, to learn hands-on what it is to live in the grace of the moment.

We live in the grace of the moment by continually recognizing both the immense need and the immense blessing of each moment (by developing a conscious and habitual attitude that says, “I am so desperately needy AND I am so abundantly blessed.”) and by relying on the Holy Spirit to teach us exactly how to reconcile the two. This happens as we first learn to live in the reality of the eternal, for it's an ever-present awareness of eternity that liberates us to receive every present moment with thankfulness and live it to the fullest, without setting up false expectations for it or worrying about the next.

When we are convinced that our life is hidden with Christ and He alone is the Prize, that this world is not our home and we are simply on assignment here, and that our pain and failures are only temporary but, with His redemption, the beauty and wisdom to be gained from them are eternal, we are set free from living in the regret of yesterday or in the fear of tomorrow. We can instead live in the blessing of the right now which fully meets the need of the right now because both need and blessing are gifts from the Father to get us ready for eternity and to meet our Bridegroom face to face. We have need of nothing but Him and His grace, and His fullness dwells in us.

The life lived in the grace of the moment is the life absolutely surrendered to the reality of God’s wisdom, God’s character and God’s sovereignty over it, for in entrusting ourselves to those, we acknowledge that He has a set and planned purpose for our lives, that it is good, and that He is powerful enough to carry it to completion. His wisdom assures us that He has always had in mind, down to the smallest details, exactly what He is doing with us; His character, that His heart is ever faithful toward us; and His sovereignty, that His directing arm cannot be shaken or thwarted. They reveal to us explicitly that He loves us with all of His mind and heart and strength, and in that knowledge we find perfect rest. As beloved children we know that we will be taken care of without having to know how it will happen or what it will look like.

In our helplessness we can simply look up to Him, reach out for Him and cry to Him in humility and thanksgiving, for our God cannot resist eyes and arms and hearts doing that. He always picks up and holds close to Himself those who long for Him. We may think that what we most desire are answers and perfectly successful plans and reasonable control over our lives, but what our souls crave is comfort and intimacy and love, and we can have those the instant we fully surrender to His embrace. He may sometimes hide His face from our “Why?”s but never from our “Hold me!” cries.

If we mistakenly suppose this life to be about this life, we will miss the present grace for fretting over and fighting for all the blessings we don’t have or fearing that those we do will be lost, until we find that they have become an unbearable millstone around our necks. If we pin our hope on anything in this temporary world it will be no stronger than that—a mere pin, easily pulled out and easily broken when life weighs too heavily upon it.

Enduring hope can only be based on God’s absolute promises given to us in His Word, not on our own expectations or wishes or impressions of how things ought to be. Enduring hope lets go of everything that can be lost to take hold of everything that cannot, and in doing so is actually able to squeeze the sweetest nectar out of those released and perishable blessings so that even their losses, though painful, do not leave a bitter aftertaste. For it’s often in the loss of a thing that its worth to us becomes most precious, and by letting it go with grace we can best savor its purest delights.

Realizing that the pain runs so deep only because the beauty ran so deep and that without it having once touched us we wouldn’t now know the emptiness of its loss, our grief will eventually turn to thankfulness that it ever touched us at all, and we will be left awed by the mystery of its haunting. There's a peculiar kind of beauty that can only be experienced with the innate knowledge that the moment is fleeting, and the most intense beauty can only be seen in the presence of both light and shadows.

The ability to enjoy our tangible blessings is surely heightened by the conviction that they are not ours to possess, by the acceptance that their loss is inevitable, and by the understanding that they were never meant to satisfy. For the enjoyment, then, will be absent the tainting dread, the taking for granted, and the twisted expectations which so easily and often mar our earthly pleasures. We will relish what we’ve been given today but recognize it may very well be gone tomorrow, and even in that uncertainty we will find a contented peace, for in every loss there lurks a hidden blessing, and all that really matters can never be lost to us. It is just as important to be a good steward of our losses as it is of our more obvious blessings, for the beauty that comes from nobly and graciously accepting loss far exceeds any tangible beauty that can be taken.

Knowing that we belong to another time and place and that this one is only meant to lead us there, like the charming towns one passes through on the way to a better destination, we will take in the sights with wonder and delight but keep traveling on toward our true home. For these sights, though tantalizing, are like mere slivers of light from a crack under the door compared to the glory to be found in God’s Presence. But when received as personal gifts of His grace, they become to us a stage precisely and delicately set by a Lover to attract the attention of His beloved, to show off His greatness and show forth His beauty to win her heart, and our hearts indeed are won.

To live in the grace of the moment is to keep looking to Jesus—to Jesus’ feet to lay our burdens down, to Jesus’ arms to be held securely, to Jesus’ hands to receive all we need, and to Jesus’ face to know our only sure hope and hearts’ true desire.

*Lord Jesus, merciful and all-sufficient One, in every need, small or great, tangible or intangible, give me the discernment to discover Your extravagant gifts of grace, the wisdom to receive them, the eagerness to open them and the passion to cherish them well. Give me eyes to see and a heart to fully enjoy with gratitude each blessing You have prepared for me today, for this very moment, and may I thrill to Your every advance of love.

"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory."
~ Colossians 3:1-4

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will— to the praise of His glorious grace, which He has freely given us in the One He loves. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding..."
~ Ephesians 1:3-8

"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us by his own glory and goodness."
~ 2 Peter 1:3

"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in Him, rooted and built up in Him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness."
~ Colossians 2:6-7

"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
    for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is Your faithfulness.
I say to myself, 'The LORD is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for Him.'
The LORD is good to those whose hope is in Him,
    to the one who seeks Him;
it is good to wait quietly
    for the salvation of the LORD."
~ Lamentations 3:22-26

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
    my hope comes from Him."
~ Psalm 62:5

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
~ 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us."
~ Romans 8:18

"Therefore, holy brothers and sisters, who share in the heavenly calling, fix your thoughts on Jesus, the apostle and high priest whom we confess."
~ Hebrews 3:1
ryn Jan 2015
Been a week since the new year arrived at dawn's door
Seven sunrises had passed making way for many more
Resolutions, wishes, aspirations cast into winds of new days
In hopes they'd be carried forth on each dawn's new rays

Let us welcome the fresh air that come
Inhale it deep as reminder that we're luckier than some
Let us embrace the opportunity of time
A privilege bestowed so we could still pen in rhyme

Let us cherish the love from family and new found friends
Shower upon them the gift of verse that never ends
Let us strengthen existing virtual and physical connections
Reinforce them with kindness, fortitude and good intentions

Let us sieve past experiences that mar us black
Dispense with animosity, ill thoughts and considerations that lack
Let us trudge forward into the unknown together
Hands in hands and hearts to hearts into the unforeseeable future

No matter who you are or where you've been
We'll all get our fair share of twenty fifteen
We've all been granted if you'd only take advantage
In the great book of life, on a fresh, brand new page

Do note that this is just ideal advice not so much as a plea
I know the journey is long, arduous and never easy
I hope these words I've penned would lighten your load
Little bites of wisdom (I hope) for the long meandering road

I can't promise the rise of the nightly moon
But the sun will rise where you are; and it will arrive very soon
This is me being optimistic. I don't wear this garb for too long at a time so I'd like to spread it for as long as I have it.
ryn Sep 2014
Creature of myth, you have to be real
I know you're there, I know you exist
Can't see nor touch but indeed I feel
That should suffice to say the least

No one I know has seen this mythical creature
I stand by my beliefs... I simply just do...
This being unknown to aged texts or ancient scriptures
Allow me to document, I'll keep it true

"A magnificent neck that tapers into a head
Much like a halo, wearing a luminescent crown
Azurite for eyes like many have said
A golden mane majestically cascading down

Almond shaped face, with cheeks slightly scaled
In the centre were dimple-like nostrils
From it's mouth, a voice; demure and frail
Speaks in verses from a time frozen still

Within the cage right under its chest
I know that calmly there lay beating
A huge, magnanimous heart does rest
Embedded deep within a physique so beguiling

Its spine is perfect, as if forged by a divine mould
Limbs are long, but with gait so light
Non terrestrial wings that into nothing they fold
Stretched around is smoothened skin milky white"

That is all I have got to offer so far
Matched the words to my mind's bewitching visage
No one has seen it; thus ensured that they cannot mar
In my head will forever be etched the image

Creature of myth... Please be real
Know that I am blinded, I just want to see
Not for the others, you don't reveal
I do believe... I just need to convince me...
igc May 2015
I saw the best minds of my generation congested and
polluted overdosing on irrelevance

Abandoned abused replaced
Fed to the thought police
Corrected corrupted
Declining the potential to be heard in
exchange for the opportunity to be documented

Lives being lived according to unfeasible standards
You either make it or you don’t
there’s no in between
there’s no maybe
there’s no equal

Left to meander through the conceived thoughts of others
decisions being made
moves being made
eulogies being made

nothings real
nothing’s right
nothing’s honest
nothing thought up matters

Who in the safety of their homes were taught respect
are told to mask their emotions
Identities saved for the weak
Only to be showcased when conducive

Who pump iron into their veins
looking for an angry fix of acceptance
Sweat streams surge down their backs
Failure prominent in their thoughts
Motivation blessing their features
the Devil clever in disguise

Who see little white fields of fairy dust
a never ending landscape of courage
giving them superpowers beyond belief

Nothing beats the freedom of being told
You can fly

Who dream of equality behind closed eyes
But render to imposed birth rights when open
The upper hand implying more than height
and executing more force than necessary to move them

It’s all about the cause until you’re indubitably
the effect

Who tuck monsters into their beds
Forgetting to check closets for skeletons not quite left behind
in the path of carefully chaotic self destruction
Conveniently purging themselves of words whispered
in the throes of passion
Forced upon the ears of all naive enough to listen

Who carelessly expend countless hours playing with
condescending pawns disguised as adults
All grown up with no where to go
Replacing quality with quantity
Leaving long dull trails of breadcrumbs
leading to hearts long since lost
Never to be recovered again

Who follow sexuality by the book
doing this to get that for this him them who what when where
Why does the finish line have to be covered with brightly colored lace and muffled drunk cries chanting no

Who stare straight dead into the soul of love but never
Never into her eyes
Told she is not worthy of being addressed directly
Fingers itching to cop a feel
Only to discover the body is but a passage to her straight dead soul

Who trade in their voice mind and individuality
for half assed smiles and superficial men
As the face of a leviathan nicknamed acceptance
hands them a paycheck they’ve worked too
night day night night hard to refuse

Who idolize the feel of phantom limbs of lovers past
Twisted words convoluting their heads
Forcing on masks of pure heroine
at the sight of scars left on the soul
Scratching at the need to feel wanted
But cowering at the ability to truly be heard

Who have perfected the art of parallel painting
Elegant red streaks hidden beneath layers of
choppy dark colored hate covering pretty pale limbs
Seeming to fade as colorlessly caked on insecurities susurrate bitter-sweet nothings that curl themselves just inside her mutilated skin

Who scavenged their looks from the bottom of holes
they’re expected to clamber out of
Smiling pretty smiling
Being treated to complimentary meals
Only to be served plates full of disappointment.

Who crave companion’s flaws
in ruthless attempts to satisfy their hunger for compassion
Selfless beings dedicated to less than noble attempts at vanquish
The call for heat too satisfying to refuse the trade off forever uselessly launching themselves into razor sharp blades
aimed at ***** sleeves

Who see soft lips as cushion enough to fall from towers built of fear
Dragging moist palms across pavement thighs
Tearing at the seams holding their
hearts together

Who cower behind brick wall appearances
fruitlessly clutching on to ideas reserved for the most fortunate
Scaring away potential with claws that seemingly only come
out to play in the face of acceptance

Who’s sick stick thin limbs trail their worn down
fingernails in an effort mar skin no one can see
Streaks titillate their bright red scalps
A reflection of their underlying journey

Who disgorge yesterday's meal from stomachs long before empty
Blood spewing from the mouth an open wound
Continuously sewed up but never stitched tight correctly
Wiring shut opinions but never gorged enough to
muzzle their Howls

Ideas, calm and collected have long been hijacked and invaded by Hestia

Hestia! Consent! Content! Acceptance!
Long nights and roid rage men!
Two faces fighting a losing battle!
Girls playing mom! Boys playing war!
Ill ridden parents still pledging to the
United States of Controlling Media!

Hestia! Hestia!
Overall reign of Hestia!
Hestia the beautiful!
Incarcerated Hestia!
Hestia the ******!

Hestia twisted and shaped to form the voice of conformity
Hestia constantly watching over and monitoring
Hestia being told what to ******* think

Hestia seeping creeping sneaking into the
darkest crevices of our minds
Hestia when least expected coming out to say

Too late! Hestia’s already made herself at home
Wedged between the rooks of your biggest fear and
burrowed deep into the folds of
Your  Worst  Nightmare

**** in a constant battle between
rejecting Hestia,
and accepting her.
This was obviously inspired by Allen Ginsberg's "Howl."
Considering it was, at the time, the voice of that generation, Welcome to Generation Y.
This is a work in progress.
Debbie Brindley Jul 2018
In the last 5 month's
Both my cats have
passed away
My mornings now so quite
I miss them both everyday

(Jan 08=Feb 18)
Such a magnificent cat
always ready for his morning cuddle and chat
Like a ******* panther he did look
Children thought him angry for his purring they miss took
You could lift him with two hands he'd be stiff like a plank
Put him round your neck
he'd hang there all lank
Such a chilled
layed back cat
was he
and he loved to curl up
on your knee
He'd knock on the door
if locked in a room
My poor Romero
dying way to soon

(Mar 09=July 18)
This little **** so very pretty
timid at times
and a little bit skitty
Some days you'd not see her  
she'd hide away
But then
she could happily sit on your lap
all day
You'd see her meowing
without making a sound
She loved playing with tissue *****
smacking them around

Afternoons spent with each other
playing hide and seek
there would be chasing
with stealth like pacing

Now beside Romero
forever Destiny shall lay
In our garden under the rose bush
So forever they may play
Missing my cats terribly
G Rog Rogers Aug 2017
I would ride all night
on a broken down mule
To be with you
once again

I would walk on glass
through the desert
If it would
alleviate the pain

I would crawl
across the mountains
If I could you
as you were
again regain

I would swim
the entire ocean
For you to know
my love will still
forever be true

Still nothing
brings any solace
Except the company
of someone who doesn't
always remind me
of you.



Medusa Oct 2018
Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar

Not Beltane, not even May, any season, any time, things are
Jumpin' on Del Mar Avenue, we do it up right on the Ave
So there she is, we run all the way, eight blocks,
T. falls behind, but she tough, she catches up

Just in time

There she is, lone lady who climbs street poles
Hair dangling down like sheets of blessings
I'm too young, I get it, T. punches me in my
Back, yells "go home"

Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar

Just in time

Just in time
She stay in my mind
Like she can find me
Back to myself

Cause I dream deep
Sometimes I dream so hard
I never wanna wake up

I'm a boy, I might be anything yet
Right now I'm an idea in my own mind. I 'm also a
'Good Person' so I don't bite or punch my sister
All the kids hold their breath as

Spinnin' like a dream,
  Lady on the Del Mar

Just in time

Stop sign makes us all one, we one organic thing
Watching her do unearthly dance for us,
Just for us. So we forget to breathe when she dips
down low, she swirl it around
so slow under the street lamp
dipping and swoopin' like a bird
I loved her then I knew love

all of the blocks got still

We feel like a church moment,
Try not to move, just hope she will
Spin like that, dip and defy it all

Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar

Just in time

Hope might be a moment
Of some kinda Grace & Beauty

We feel hope, because we seen
Magic on the corner

Spinning like a dream,
Lady on the Del Mar

Just in time

Waits for you
For K de La F
Who is this poem
In every way.
¿De donde veniste, amor lejano?
¿De que estas hecho?
Eres como la flor hibrida que aun no existe
La cual tiene la memoria de toda la vida en sus petalos y en sus venas
Amor, te siento en cada fibra de mi cuerpo languido
Que se alimenta del dulce de tus labios
La vida me ha alejado de ti, raiz de mis raices
Y el mar me ha devuelto a ti
En mi llanto que derrama lagrimas saladas
Asi es como vives dentro de mi, mar sagrado
I met Shamus from afar,
Bold and glowingly pure.
From across the seas of mar,
He is my love I'm sure.
Low times I asked in prayer,
Him an answer for me.
So gracious his lips to share,
Pressed upon mined to heal.
Misery the best to see,
I fear staying on till -
A quenching love chasing thee.
In this land of the free,
I found the true island's key.
A Shamus dearest be.
Lewis Hyden Dec 2018
"Estrellas frias
Levantándose del mar
Besan la luna
"Buenas noches, mi amor."
Me acuerdo de ti
Desde la orilla del mar gris
Hasta la ***** verde de la montaña más alta en la sierra
En el sueño de la concha rosada cuya voz marina convoca tu nombre
Desde hace mil años
Cuantas veces nos hemos conocido
En cuantas maneras y en cuantos tiempos
Cuando te sembró Dios, fue en la misma tierra en la que yo nací
Es por eso que vivir dentro de ti es conocer mi fuente
Tus costillas son la base de mi único hogar
En tu corazón rojo quema una hoguera en la cual soy consumida
Y me convierte en cenizas a tus pies
Hace años presentía tu presencia benigna
Eres como las sombras de miles palomas blancas en vuelo
Eres la paz en las sonrisas de familiares en la estación del tren
Eres el silencio de la tienda donde vendían los vestidos blancos de comunión de mi niñez
Eres el despertar en una mañana tibia de cualquier día de Abril y la brisa del viento en my cabello cuando en las tardes iba a montar mi bicicleta después de trabajar
Eres el deseo, los ojos, las manos, el secreto de mis flores y mis venas
El país que aún no existe y que no tiene nombre
Donde nací y donde pertenezco
Donde hécho mis semillas pa' sembrar
Donde duermo y donde moriré
Ariana Robinson Nov 2017
She seems to have lost touch with herself
Drowned in the sorrow that flows within her veins
Tears staining her face once again

Though the thought of being immune to this feeling crossed her mind
She has felt it so many times before
Inflicted upon herself by those she thought would never leave bruises
Inflicted upon herself by herself
Not giving others the opportunity to mar a soul already damaged
And yet it feels brand new every time

So much hurt inside one body
Of memories of forgetting herself
Of feeling searing pain course through her
When he broke her heart
Yet he promised to cherish it
When her father hurt her mother
Forgetting she's reflection of the woman she calls "momma"
Of when her brother imposed between her thighs at such a tender age
Leaving himself in the corner of her mind
And every now and then, he slips from the shadows
Replaying that moment on a continuous loop
Of when she lost herself within herself
And couldn't find  herself in the dark

She should be used to it
But it always feels brand new
Ken Pepiton Mar 2018
Strong beings
Curious beings seeing man weak
Being seen of daughters of man

Curiosity itching lures
Scratches mar the sweat sheen
Leaving tears and blood
Begetting all the monsters of myth
by  tubal-cain's daughters
SimpleWritings Dec 2018
Kemm hu b’ saħħtu l-baħar
Qatt ma jaqta nifsu
Bil-mewġ dejjem jiżfen
Mar-ritmu tal-kurrenti

Kemm hu b’ saħħtu l-baħar
Qatt ma jieqaf jikkumbatti
Ħadd u xejn ma jwaqqfu
Jew jibdilu d-direzzjoni

“Kemm hu b’ saħħtu l-baħar”
Ma nista naħseb xejn għajr hekk
Kemm ngħir għalih
Kemm nixtieq inkun bħalu

This poem is written in Maltese.
Nienke Aug 2018
la primera vez que te vi
el tiempo se detuvo
nuestras miradas
lo único visible
sólo por un momento
como un rayo de luz
aislado del mundo
sólo tú y yo
en otra dimensión
en la que vimos la luz
como una estrella fugaz
fuerte, brillante
olvidamos nuestro entorno
sólo para sentir
esta otra realidad
lleno de gotas
ven, ven
lluvia de energía positiva
toma mi mano
y caminamos a través
todos los sonidos
todos los pensamientos
sólo tus ojos
tan irreal
sólo por un momento
como un buceo en el mar
y supe
esto continuará
Muskan Feb 17
Life is a journey,
Make or mar.
I'm proud of you that you came so far.
I understand that,
You can't sleep at home at nights,
With tears falling out of your eyes.
But you've to fight alone,
Noone is gonna stay in your life,
and yes you've to struggle,
With your demons on sleepless nights.
Chin up because you're strong my love.
We all learn to get up,
When we fall at first.
It's okay to be sad sometimes,
It's just a phase of life.
Things will get better,
And you'll be fine,
I hope you all are having a good day and if not then trust me things will be fine.I hope you smiled after reading this:))
G Rog Rogers Sep 2017
What was She like
How did She look
Was it a wonder
for all of your dreams
to come true?


Her hair was golden
Her face as an Angel
Her heaven sent smile

The touch of Her love
was the moment
She saved me
in time

Will you once again see Her
To again touch Her hand
To look in Her eyes

Do you think
She still is the same?


Time is not kind
to Angels who fall
The ageless
beautiful loyalty
She once wore
is gone

And spent cheaply
For Her own
personal war

So then what can I say
and what's to be said
My once precious Darling
is now but not forever...
no more

For in Heaven
again unto me...

Will She then again
be restored


Of that I am
certainly sure.



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