Silent swing
Of rope and wood
Back and forth
While a young girl stood
Silent girl
Hands by her side
Remembering the past
When the swing was a ride
Watching
Remembering
Waiting
Contemplating
If she should snap the rope
Watching it fall to the ground
A tangle of past memories
Scream with no sound
Silent swing**
Hangs still of rope and wood
To remind her
Of the times that were good...

If Depression was a color,
It would be Black
As Black as a Midnight Sky.
If Depression was a taste
It would be just like Tears.
If Depression was a feeling
It would be as Bad as a Downing But Alive.
If Depression was a smell
It would be Like choking as a Puff of smoke.
If Depression was a sound,
It would be As slient as a The dead of night.

I saw thee once- once only- years ago:
I must not say how many- but not
many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that like thine own
soul soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through
heaven,
There fell a silvery silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness and
slumber,
Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no wind dared to stir, unless on
tiptoe-
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these
roses
That gave out, in return for the love-
light,
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic
death-
Fell on the upturned faces of these
roses
That smiled and died in this parterre,
enchanted
by thee, and by the poetry of thy
presence.
Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half-reclining; while the
moon
Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses,
And on thine own, upturn'd- alas, in
sorrow!
Was it not Fate, that, on this July mid-
night-
Was it not Fate (whose name is also
Sorrow),
That bade me pause before that garden-
gate,
To breathe the incense of those slum-
bering roses?
No footstep stirred: the hated world
all slept,
Save only thee and me. I paused- I
looked-
And in an instant all things disap-
peared.
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was
enchanted!)
The pearly lustre of the moon went
out:
The mossy banks and the meandering
paths,
The happy flowers and the repining
trees,
Were seen no more: the very roses'
odours
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
All- all expired save thee- save less
than thou:
Save only the devine light in thine
eyes.
I saw but them- they were the world
to me.
I saw but them- saw only them for
hours-
Saw only them till the moon went
down.
What wild heart-histories seemed to lie
enwritten
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a woe! yet how sublime a
hope!
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How adoring an ambition! yet how
deep-
How fathomless a capacity for love!
But now, at length, dear Dian sank
from sight,
Into the western couch of a thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid entombing
trees
Didst glide away. only thine eyes
Remained.
They would not go- they never yet
have gone.
Lighting my lonely pathway home that
night,
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since.
They follow me- they lead me through
the years.
They are my ministers- yet I their
slave.
Their office is to illuminate and enkindle-
My duty, to be saved by their bright
light
And purified in their electric fire,
And sanctified in their elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which
is Hope.)
And are far up in Heaven- the stars
I kneel to
In the sad, slient watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still- two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!

Silence as he goes down the steps
he knows he musn't wake
his mother who sleeps upstairs
he musn't wake his sisters or his brothers

He opens the door to the bathroom
and Sees his reflection
UGLY, STUPID, WORTHLESS
Words like these bounce around his mind

His skull is a bouncy house and more words keep piling in
Wanting a chance to jump high
He opens the cupboard and sees the pills
A bottle of painkillers the doctor gave to his sister

He creeps back to his room
Slient like a night cat
and he sits on his bed with the note right beside
Sorry for being such a dissapointment, sorry for causing pain, I am gone now don't worry anymore i will longer I have to be a burden
he opens the cap and he can feel that he wants to cry

he pours the pills into his hand and takes each one
one at a time
I am gone, gone forever never to return again
No longer have to be a disapointment
I can be who I want to be after death
No longer having to feel less
No longer I have to be stong
*As I sing the sucide Song

Flawed eventless, the muck to the mire
To the river crimson with lustful haze.
Supressed desire flows like light, rapture to the gaze.
Feverd, clamy, tossing, turning
Lying wrestless on the floor.
Sarrow slips, through the cracks,
to come smashing through the door.

Famin parched, the scream to the cry,
to the path trampled in fits of rage.
Unrelenting fire, burns like ice, denile in a cage.
Calm, relaxed, watching, breathing,
Standing idle at the sash.
Anguish waits at beck and call
to come crashing  through the glass.

Hidden in a seamless world of delight and joy and glee
A fractured cloud of misery waits
to have its cake and thee,
to reval as it sulks with company.
Ever growing spawned by fear, deathly silent in its' plea
Eating away at the sinews of faith,
dispair awaits its' time to flea.

Akin to death, friend to evil, slient screaming in its' vain
Dissolving with trust the passion of the lust
Envy plies to its bain.
Passion and fire, burning desire, these monsters are not the same.
All too familiar, confusing just the same, betrayed by flesh.
What is there cannot be had, for surely this is no game.

I want to be the flush of cheeks when someone is embarrased
I want to be the unspoken words of the one who just can't say how he feels
I want to be the menagerie of butterflies that swarm in the stomach of the unconfident
I want to be the thought that says **** it in the mind of the one finally takes the next step
I want to be the pen that writes word that no on will ever see
I want to be the uplifting rush of a new romance
I want to be the tender kiss of lovers
I want to be the embrace that says everything is going to be ok
I want to be the goosebumps on the back of the neck of the gently caressed
I want to be the feeling of when you reach out for a body at night and find it there to hold
I want to be the keys on a piano that make the sound of love
I want to be the slient scream of the broken hearted
I want to be the tear that falls the unending distance from face to floor
I want to be the heart beat of the slowly dying
I want to be-

The silent surrender of sacrifice

Can sever the soul's inner pride

Can quench the thirst for suicide

of a  secretly smoldering love inside

Can cure the sickening sound of sorrow

******* the life from today and tomorrow

Can show the side that sanctifies

and sweetens others' lonely lives

Can save the stricken who always hide

the last core of sanity deep inside

Can slowly but surely open the eyes

of fools and fakes who cauterize

and burn the good from all our lives

the sullen soldiers of sacred lies

who fight a war for no one's side

and wish for nothing otherwise

a slient surrender from sacrifice.

silent screams that only i can hear
they rip my soul to pieces
all i want is the screaming to end and have the silent return once more
but i know it will never stop
slient screams slowly driving me insane

My jaw came unhinged
and spoke **** that made them cringe.
Words like flaming oranges, that singed my mouth
as they fell out at all the wrong time.

O, bring me a comforting wine to soothe the pain.
A sip of blood, I loathe the taste
but drink it to the bitter end.

The unchanging cycle of comfort.
Who dares abort this flawed system of coping?
Copying eveyone else at the party and continue to suffer.

A slient prayer for change goes unheard.
I wouldn't hold my breath,
for Change and Hope have met their deaths.

I have stop dreaming of that beau ideal.
Orange peels remind me of my Achilles' heel.
Sealing my fate.
For once you let go of the steering wheel,
it isn't long till the crash.

And forth came a glimpse
Of a withered face,
In the broken mirror,
That stands behind the curtain lace
Grey, messy hair bun,
Wrinkle filled sunken eyes
A heavy set of, glass rests
On the nose, pointing skies
The fresh mint tea brew
Excits, the twitched lips
Oh, dear I miss thee -
Thy soul that rips
Guide these trembling hands
To thank in a prayer
The lousy back won't help
For my walker, has lost a pair
Dragging one leg by other
As I sit by the fireplace
Sipping the fragranced tea
Rocking my chair in a pace
Thousands of memories
Rail down my alzheimers head
So many years gone
Now, it's just me and my empty bed
Tears fill and spill by its own will
I got to pack up, for I to, have to leave
Leaving all memories behind
In a slient place to grieve
A small room, I am spared to
At the golden age gardenia
I am almost gone from myself
Just few threads, hanging near...



©sim

Hear me when I say this

I can never go back to that place

The walls are covered with carvings made with fingernails
Covered in dents and brusies scars of battles its won.

I can never go back into that place

The hinges never stay slient even when the door is closed
They only speak in taunts spinning lies and hateful truths.

The floor is covered with tears
Blood
and memories that never saw light.

I can never go back into that place.
You cant make me.

Stars fall like the slient darkness of night. Moon lit paths made from a bitter sorrow. Done fighting fights that can never be won.

Every beautiful rose has thorns that cut deep. Feelings are like lost dreams you can't find. Forgetting memories made and sweet kisses.

Fairy tales lie not all endings are happy. It's just an other day with out you.Looking up at the split moons that's broken.

Watching loves rose die petal by petal.

she hesitates
which always makes her late
reads worn out books at night
with quizzical looks she finds

she writes poetry
all titled please help me
while humming foreign tunes  
she rhymes black inked in blue

she's good at giving gifts
to those less fortunate
to which she receives the most
because that's all she knows

again she hesitates
with things she'd like to say
because she knows it's best
when things are left unsaid

she breathes sighs of relief
it's how she was taught to breathe
while raising her left hand
a right she feels she has

that hand she wears a broken watch
which says more than enough
inside its slient tic
is where her time is kept

when she speaks of relationships
it's a smorgasbord of hit and miss
held out like an apology
a secret that she keeps

she'd like to be a star
in a galaxy far from ours
and maybe then one day
she won't hesitate

I am Jonathan
Crown Prince of Israel
God’s chosen people.
These have been a rough few days.
My friend David had to flee for his life.
The boy who slew the oppressor of Israel
Became the man now in danger of his life.
And he was my best friend
He is, my best friend.
He came to me with tears in his eyes
Running down his face
Dripping down his beard.
His garments were soaked with sweat.
David cried out, “What have I done?”
At first I was slient.
Because I had known that David had done nothing.
His presence was a threat.
Because everyone in the court knew that they saw the next King.
In spite of my father’s wishes that it be me.
But I told David that he would not die.
Of that, I could make sure.

Me and Father were at a dinner.
And he seemed more agitated, than normal.
He kept muttering to himself.
Then he looked up with a snarl and asked, Where is that shepherd boy?
I mean, where is David my armor-bearer?
I stammered.
I normally don’t do that.
Even though I have a lisp.
That I managed to overcome through instruction.
His people have a sacrifice.
So he asked to be excused.
Saul rose in anger.
He grabbed his spear.
Oh no.
I saw his hand twitch.
The way it did at the Lord’s enemies.
Only this time it was at me
And it had a spear attached to it
That was headed in my attention.
I could never forget that Father still had the skill of a warrior.
Even though sometimes he lacked a reliable temperament.
But this was more than unreliable.
This was……attempted ******
Of the Crown Prince of Israel.
And I had no doubt by then
If David had been there
He would have been struck by that spear.
I left in anger.
The food was good.
But I could not stay in the presence of a man
Who wanted David dead
Even if that man was my father
Even if that man was my king.
Because David was more than a friend to me
David is family.

The next day I took my bow and some arrows.
Not to go hunting
Not to go to war
But to save a life.
I took a servant boy with me.
And I fired the arrow.
Far, but at no target in particular.
I kept firing.
With tears in my eyes.
When the boy stopped I called out
Hurry up the arrows are ahead.
I wish that they could stay with me.
But when the boy picked up the arrows.
David got up from his hiding place.
We embraced crying
We spoke covenant to each other
Saying we would be friends forever.
I hope I could see David become king.
So I can serve at his right hand.

Can I go through it again? Can i bare the breaking of my heart?
What if i knew it was my fault? What if i know i did my part?
Will I change for the better? Or will I just keep going down?
Will I keep swimming and get to shore? Or does the water over take, as i begin to drown?
The current is getting stronger, I feel the water engulfing me whole,
My breath is running out, I can't seem to find which way to go.
Do i swim up to salvage the wreckage? Or do I accept defeat and fall into the slient abyss?
I dont know yet, but here is too you, maybe its in the end, its me you miss.

The terrible thing about death
You never meet your loved one again

The silence is eternal
The rest is just pretend

The silence is me missing
The silence never ends

Moonlight, oceans, starshine
Slient lights they send

she works at 17
watching her mother suffer
watching her sister play
watching the dogs bark

when the kids have had their fun
and the slient day returns
there’s only room for mistake
as she grows older than 17

I remember that age
feeling the paper like sanding paper
and the flies like pigeons inside the house
without money to support the whole family
without a family to support the animals

a dad without a job
a sister without a degree
and maybe her moms dreams were the only thing real

So easy to break,
So hard to make.
Everyboby ask for it,
Nobody wants to keep!!!

In slient one crys,
To find no one trys.
Its hard to find,
Its the only one of it's kind.

On the earth's crust,
There is no TRUST!!!!

- Soul