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Anna
Into the unravelings of God,I have seen you unfold;I have known you as told.Much as I right now know.You should now somehow go.You should just somehow leave.Much as God disappears.Where there’s no doubts, or fears,or pain, or disbelief.But pray rememberof my nature, & my voice,& my writings, & my tidings. As I bear you wonder,awe,
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Letter II: Saudade
I have missed you, Longer than you’d ever know; Bitter much, that phantom touch, of the Lack of your afterglow. & much as I have come to learn, & much as I have come to find; Knowing only — lorn and lonely. Only for you do I yearn, In my horrid hell of mind, I
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Maude
You are not what you may seem.Deep into this captive thought, In the bleak of time, was brought,Shadows despondent, distraught,of a dark and distant dream.You are not what you may seem,Yet you know how much before,Fought, I, at the heaven’s door,Long to gaze at you once more,Losing lifetimes for a gleam.But you’re not what you
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A vow to end all Silence
I am neither alive nor dead.I am the wave that sets behind.I am those words you left unsaid.I am neither alive nor dead.I am the mist that clouds your mind.I am the weary starry sky.Though may it be alive, seems dead.& in the wild I stopped my tread —To ask if Love has caught your
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When You Pray
Originally posted on Beesho's Blog: When you pray, Remember to pray for the fallen. Those who were swept away by the turmoil of existence. Those who lost the charm of the most fundamental of all questions & the beauty behind every reason to answer each. Those who lost the cause & the journey. Those…
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When You Pray II
When you pray, Remember to pray for those who are too many within themselves. Those who became aware of their own becoming. Those who experienced Life so much in a world without life; that they now long to die. For those who stopped praying for childish desires. For those who stopped wishing. For they have
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Upon Bangor Mountain
There is a voice that I can not deny,Coloured into the hues of a lullaby.Denying everything;All the joys and the nothings,all the symphonies of the passers-by. There is a voice that shall not die —Whispers into each goodbye,screaming hellosunto a starless sky of blues.Uttering breeze of a bashful muse.Then unto the doves of a budtime
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Night Talk
At last! I come in soot and sweat,In rust, in mud and dust and blood,I come half alive, half dead;Yet cursed as much as blessed by God.I come at last to rest my head.at last, I rest,and tell myself I did my best… At last! I come unfettered by regret,Untriumphant, yet unbroken,Half conquering, half conquered,with
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Morning Notes: #2019-02-04
There was a whisper, a silent whisper, that there will be no more death in this world. That the voice of absence will diminish and the reigns of leaving will be conquered. That silence shall rule the lands of departing and the waves of weeping shall dry in fear. There was a whisper of a
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Morning Notes: #2019-01-27
This is an account of a suffering psyche. I plan to restore myself again into being, I have not been myself for some time now. During my stay, I have found the act of writing to be of a soothing therapeutic effect. I intend to indulge a little more in my writing, I intend to
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