Unyielding Hope
“Never ever forget you can do hard things You can slay giants and walk with Kings”.
Unyielding Hope
“Never ever forget you can do hard things You can slay giants and walk with Kings”.
“Never ever forget you can do hard things You can slay giants and walk with Kings”.
“Never ever forget you can do hard things You can slay giants and walk with Kings”.
Is it simply writing or expression, A way to cope with the depression? Get pain off your chest, onto paper, Embracing the moniker of creator. An alignment with a higher power, Or thoughts revealed in the shower. Sometimes you’re comforting the crier, Then you’re trying to encourage a trier. My greatest gift and curse all in one, Finding meaning when there is none. A quick look at the literal definition Is central to my final proposition:
“Literary work in which the expression of feelings and ideas is given intensity by the use of distinctive style and rhythm.”
Mine would be:
“The strength, resilience, and inner purpose you require in your day to day life when you have been given a mountain to climb.”
Poetry is what you make it, As long as you make it.
That was probably the worst idea you’ve ever had. To stop writing for as long as long as you did. I don’t thnk you can even call it an idea or a decion. You just drifted away, right when you were startibg to develop some momentum.
What if you’d carried on? Where would you be now. And there in lies the problem. Captalism has made you thik monitisation of a passion is the only true measure of its worth.
How very incorrect, especially in the case of writting. Where the reward is very much in the doing. The only plus of your hiatus was you were able to come to this revalation for yourself. So now you’re ready to go again stronger than before. So yes giving up on your writting was a terrible idea. That was probably the worst idea you’ve ever had . . . and yet it worked.
Bright beaming light, bursting out of every orifice
Its incandescent powers hang on the precipice
Blinding overbearing rays of absolute raw fury
Its piecing unforgiving glow has grown blurry
A once unfailing barometer of illuminating terror
Now destine to live in bleak darkness forever
The joy he displayed at first was inspiring
An air of contentment to make you envious
Immune to all unnecessary seriousness
Loved to laugh in the face of disappointments
Optimistic beyond reproach, effervescent
Beautiful dreamer, painted an incredible future
Little did I know, the times they would change
A deep rooted negativity, cast a shadow
My blue sky thinking charismatic prince
Morphed into a dark knight with no stars
Misery loves company, and she was me
Fruitless resistance, cynicism prevailed
Alongside my own bitter spirit in disguise
It was I the pessimist enabler extraordinaire
Aligning myself to the undisputed apathy king
Nothing betrays the deep sadness I try to mask more than my affiliation to sad songs
As if listening to other people’s heartaches and mistakes would help right my wrongs.
Not even the sound of silence can compensate for the fact that everybody hurts
Every one in my family that is, for generations we’ve carried this heirloom thats cursed
Nothing compares to you when the drugs don’t work, at least you’re yourself once more
Doing your all to give your children something that you have never experienced before
This mad world couldn’t fix you, somehow your soul, it remained, personified perseverance
Yesterday has gone, it took someone like you to vanquish this chronic inheritance
Same old story, in one ear
No hope or glory, just the fear
Scary actually, it goes deeper
As factually, it can’t be clearer
I understand, like completely
Don’t expand, even discretely
It’s not the listening, it’s the doing
Which is crippling, agony brewing
Can you hear me? You ask with sincerity
Yes quite sincerely, It’s just I have anxiety
I waited for you on the darkside of the moon
The heartache of yesterday came way too soon
Now I’m here in sheer nothingness searching
For a love that’s out of this world, I’m yearning
These stars have guided me home once again
The pain of your absence impossible to contain
Silently I grieved a love which never breathed
Sacred romantic potentiality never reached
Lost in the endless void of my abandoned soul
Like having a line to heaven with no-one to call
All-comers under qualified to replace her aura
Celestial smile engulfing my memory like flora
He didn’t mean it, he was having a bad day The source of his bad day he wouldn’t say
Silence is golden but also extremely toxic When she spoke he would change the topic
An all consuming anger let loose habitually Psychologically, the abuse was continuously
A circle of tournament, remaining unsquared Waiting on an apology, which was never shared
It wouldn’t have made an ounce of a difference Apart from even more unanswered questions
Like in her mind she would often ponder When does a man become a monster?