Rhyme Spree!

Wow, I guess we got inspired on the same night . . . . how weird!!! Lol oh well. What can I say? It must be one of those nights . . . . . .

  

Rhyme spree!!!!!

Here is my little spree

Of rhyming words for free

Without my cup of tea

Dear me,

What can I say?

Another issue today?

Just another way

Of living the day

Is for me to lay

Here to pay

Here to pray

Here on the ground

Listening to the sound,

Where none is found

Dreamless bound

Realities pound

Turning it around

Sniffing out the hound

Going light to dark

What’s that, hark,

There, it’s stark

It’s no park,

It’s pain,

It’s the ordain

Force, not fain,

Strong, not vain,

Secret, not plain,

So use the cane,

Break it out,

Let yourself shout,

Don’t do your pout,

Don’t play the lout,

That’s not what it’s ‘bout

Don’t be ‘cause‘n doubt,

Because that in the end,

The message doesn’t send,

And you’re stuck to fend

Off all your friends

When you finally descend

Around the bend

Out of the trend,

When life you lend.

But now I’m done,

No more fun

Now that I hate the sun

No intentioned pun

‘cause now I shun

My own poum – - – - – - – (poem but . . . . whatever works)

Men of War

The Men Of War

The men of war they marched along
And through the day they sang the song
Of battles won
In shining sun
And not a thought for death prolong

Goodbyes are said and love is sent
And no regrets are here to vent
The mothers cry
And fathers sigh
For “this is their own punishment”

Then they approached the battle lines
In dark of night more black then mines
The booming sound
The shaking ground
The men of war they saw the signs

The shrieks and screams they filled the air
And soldiers turned to stop and stare
To watch the blood
Burst forth in flood
Reality of cannon glare

Their comrades falling all around
Then clutch their ears to block the sound
And side by side
The living died
To hell or heaven they were bound.

The Men of War their battle fought
With screams and gore that ne’er is sought
The fires died
The soldiers sighed
The price was paid without a thought.

The fog of war now holds their souls
Above the ashes and the coals
Remembered, now
Death won’t allow
The men of war they gave their tolls.

A Selection from my Scottish Tale

You might understand this section better if you first read this one, which preceeds the selection below. Let me know what you think.

-That night it was a gloomy and discouraged bunch of Scots that assembled wearily at the Barrie McLaif croft. Barrie had opened his house to the remaining Scots, deciding it would be better to be cautious and not reside where the enemy would know where they were. This way the foe had to at least look for them. As for Captain Dunstan and his soldiers, Barrie figured they could take care of themselves.
The small croft was not quite large enough for even the few remaining Scots, 18 left of the previous 31, so the patriotic Scotsmen that were not as badly wounded as the others found places to rest outside the croft. Most of them took shelter from the drizzling rain that had just begun underneath the roof of the McLaif’s sheep shed. Ian also holed up inside the shed, but after a few minutes returned to the croft to fetch some sort of nourishment for his fellows.
He closed the door promptly behind him after entering, and paused to survey the situation inside the crowded building. Those that had been badly injured during the earlier fracas were lying, or sitting, in various locations around the room. Ian’s mother, sister and Joanne were going around the room tending to the injured men. Joanne looked up from gathering some bandages, and saw Ian standing at the door. She stood up and walked over to him.
“Your arm.” she exclaimed, pointing to his left arm.
“Eh, what about it?” questioned Ian, looking down at it. He saw then that he had received a rather small cut upon it. “Och, it’s just a small cut, nothing to worry about.”
Joanne nonetheless insisted on wrapping a bandage around it. She cut a strip of cloth from the roll she had, and carefully wrapped it around the damaged arm.
When she was finished, Ian thanked her and then inquired as to whether there was any food to be found for his fellows outside. She shrugged, but went and looked around for some nourishment. Ian’s eyes followed here as she walked across around the room. She stopped every now and then to pick up a morsel of food, until she had collected all that there was available. Returning to Ian, she handed the food to him, and he thanked her before returning to the outside air.
After rushing hastily through the rain to the cover of the rough shed, Ian passed out the small amount of food as evenly as he could.
 “Thank ye much,” exclaimed one of the men gratefully.
 Ian nodded solemnly, sorry that he couldn’t bring more to these men that had fought so hard for so much. Looking around at the tired, weary men sitting under that pathetic shed, he thanked God that only a few comrades had been killed in the fight. Sitting there, with the rain drumming rapidly on the ground and roof, Ian was inspired to pray aloud with his comrades.
 “Shall we pray?” he exclaimed, glancing around at everybody. Some nodded, some shrugged, so Ian began, bowing his head and clasping his hand together on his knees.
“Heavenly Father, we thank you for delivering us today and…and…bless those that didn’t make it…”-

The Scarlet Letter

For those who have read The Scarlet Letter this might be a little interesting. This is an addition to that book, like what happened to Pearl when the story stopped. If you haven’t read the book, it probably wont seem like much,but you can always judged my writing skills. lol.
Nathaniel Hawthorne set he pen down beside the paper on which he was writing on. Closing his eyes and relaxing back in his chair, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Staring at the back of his eyelids for a moment, his mind wandered from the events in the story and the now. He picked up the manuscript and looked at it as if it held secrets that it would not reveal, not even to him, the creator. Brows furrowed in concentration, he didn’t notice the woman-that came up the stairs that sounded off such a racket-until he heard the knock on the door. At the swift rap he jerked his head over his shoulder quickly, and then called, “Come in!” the door opened to a woman in her mid thirties with lush dark hair, almost black. Her skin was smooth without flaw, not overweight and not over skinny. She wore a beautiful maids dress crafted by her own hand, one that was beautiful as it was purposeful. However, the most astounding aspect of this woman was the scarlet letter A on her breast. Nathaniel smiled faintly at the thought of the A, and their confrontation at the beginning. She had come up to him with that same red letter on her chest and had asked for a job at the custom house. He pointed at the scarlet letter and said,
“Nay, not with that on thine chest. I’ll never have anyone staying here if rumor gets out I’m harboring an adulteress.” And the woman had replied to him,
“It is not for any act I have committed that I wear this badge.” The woman’s eyes seemed dark and full with secrets, looking into his soul. “It is for my mother.” A most queer woman, but he gave her a job for a short period. She worked exceedingly hard in all that he assigned her. She had the front room clean and habitable in 3 days, a feat He had not thought possible in its abused condition. She came to bring him breakfast and dinner, a full meal well appreciated. Nathaniel’s work consumed him, giving him no extra time. He had lived like a hermit for that past few weeks, weeks that turned into months. He rarely saw anybody during the day and less during the night, but the woman never forgot him, and continued to bring him meals. She was intelligent, understanding, and able, qualities of women not usually accepted by men. Nathaniel knew better though.
The woman walked over to the desk and set the tray, laden with food, gently on the desk.
“Is there anything thou shalt need in the future?” the woman asked. She has never failed to say these lines for all the times she had brought meals to his desk.
“nay, I shalt not be needing anything thanks to you” the woman’s eyes looked at him sharply. She then turned to the door, and as she walked out she said, “I’ll be back soon with a blanket and more candles” Nathaniel chuckled to himself. Many didn’t understand his lenient attitude toward the maid. He knew however, that she was capable of much more then what was thought of her. Probably her upbringing, he though. Yes that would be it. He gazed out the dirty window to his left and said aloud her name, as if to test it upon his tongue. “Pearl.” He scratched his chin and bent his head once again to his work.

children story

i wrote this as a childrens story for school, because i had to use parallelism. parallelism is where certain attributs of the story are repeated. you’ll see what i mean (i hope) once you read it.

One day, Ryan and his little sister Mary were walking in the woods. Ryan told his sister many funny jokes, and watched her gasp in wonder as he pulled pennies out of her ears. They were laughing at some funny joke when someone jumped into their path. It was a slender young man, with long blond hair that fell past his shoulders, and pointed ears!
He said to them, “Why hello! You must be new here, for I’ve never seen you before. Would you like to join me and my friends in a grand feast to celebrate our new king?” Mary loved the idea and pleaded with Ryan to go with this stranger.
Ryan was careful and said, “What about mother? She asked us to be back before dark.”
The stranger smiled and said, “Oh don’t worry then! When we finish feasting and the games, we will bring you home in a flash!”
“Please Ryan?” Mary said, showing her puppy dog eyes.
“All right” said Ryan, giving in. “But only for a short while.”
“Wonderful!” said the stranger, “follow me!” They followed the stranger through the forest until they came to a leafy meadow filled with wooden tables containing more food then you could shake a stick at. The stranger ran to join his friends, many of whom were already at the tables eating. Ryan spotted another unfamiliar person, similar to the one who found them, on a great throne at one end of the meadow, surveying the new guests. Mary glanced at her brother and said,
“Come on Ryan! Look at all the food! I’m hungry!” she was about to take off running to the food when Ryan reached out and grabbed her.
“Hold on sis, something’s not right here.” He surveyed the elves eating furiously, gorging themselves on the food. He also observed a strange light behind Mary eyes that he didn’t like. “We should not eat next to complete strangers. We should not have even followed someone we didn’t know. We must leave quickly.” Ryan grabbed his sisters arm in a firm grip and turned to go back through the woods. However, as he turn around he was surprised to see another stranger right behind them. This stranger was not slender and clean, nor did he have pointed ears. Rather, he had a long dirty beard that was tucked neatly into his belt. His grimy face was grinning up at Ryan because he was much shorter. He was as tall as a man’s legs, and no more. He wore what looked like heavy armor, with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Woi ‘ello! Ye must be new heres, cuz I’ve never seen ye befores.” He said gruffly. “haha, ye’re smarter then oi thought. Wise of yeh not to eat ‘der food, or yeh might never ‘ave left agin! Ye wish teh turn home ‘den? Well, I’ll show ye’re de way. But befors ye go, will ye excepd a gift from us’s? Me and me brudders I mean. We’re expandin’, and we needs to make room for more gold and gems. Just a bit tho’, we love our glitter, just eh few trinkets for ye. Like tis” the stranger pulled out a golden necklace with a large green emerald on the circlet in the middle. Both Ryan and Mary were drawn to it, wanting to touch it. Soon however, it was gone again, somewhere underneath all the armor he wore. “Well, what d’ye say?” he asked.
“Don’t forget mother! She asked us to be back before dark, and the sun is already slipping away.” The stranger smiled and said,
“Oh don’t ye worry ‘den! Just come wit me and ah’ll lead ye to me cave. Just pick out a few trinkets and we’ll take yeh to yer homes! Aur tunnels go everywhere, so’s we can put yeh back to yer home in no times.”
“Please Ryan?” Mary said, her lower lip trembling and her eyes looking for the necklace. Ryan thought about how much the money he would get b selling the “trinkets”, and quickly agreed. The stranger lead them a little ways into the woods then went down into a cleverly concealed hole in the ground. He took out a torch and lit it, and they carried on through the tunnel. At last, they came to a large chamber that was completely underground. It was like being in an upturned bowl, Ryan thought. in the middle of the chamber was a large hole, where bouts of liquid fire came bursting out.
“What’s that?” asked Ryan.
“Tha’?” replied the stranger pointing at the large hole. “Is just where we’s gets aur gold and gems. dats liquid gold yeh see de’re, but ye can’t ‘ave none o’ that. Look to de other side o’ the cavern de’re, inside dat cave.” The children looked where the stranger spoke, and saw a cave filled to the brim with glittering gold and gems. Mary and her brother stood there awestruck and couldn’t move. Staring at the mountain of gold, the fire pit was soon forgotten. Mary took a hazy step forward and tripped on a rock. Before she could fall, however, Ryan caught her in his arms. He looked at the pit of fire, and back at the grinning stranger, and saw an evil glimmer in his eyes.
“No” Ryan said, “No, we need to get home, NOW.”
“Why hello! You must be new here, for I’ve never seen you before.” Startled by another presence, all three looked around. An old man was walking swiftly toward them, a staff thudding against the stone floor as he walked. He was dressed in grey and looked hunched up. When he reached the group he stopped and looked into Ryan’s eyes.
“My, you’re such a brave young man.” The old man said. “Such strength is rare these days. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll take you to a place that you would love more then anything.” Ryan was on his guard this time, and demanded,
“Where are you taking us?”
“Why, home dear boy,” the old man said with a sparkle of a tear in his kind, wrinkled eyes. “I’m here to take you home.” Ryan smiled with relief. Suddenly, thunder shook the cavern and rocks fell from the high ceiling to the floor.
“Hurry, we must go quickly! Follow me, and I will lead you out.” The old man led them through the tunnels with surprising agility, though rocks and dust poured continually from the tunnel ceiling. Mary was coughing and stumbling in the dark, so Ryan carried her and followed the old man by the sound of his footsteps. They finally came out of the tunnels into the last rays of sunlight.
Then old man turned to Ryan and said, “I must leave you here on after, but don’t worry, you’ll be safe. Just follow that small dirt path there, the straight and narrow one, and you’ll be safe.”
“But where are you going?” asked Ryan, clutching tiny Mary in his arms.
The old man laid his hand on the back of Ryan’s head, bent down so they were looking at each other at eyelevel, and said, “Oh you brave boy. I go to rescue others just like you. Others trapped in a web of greed and self-indulgence. Now run home, quick! Before the sun goes down!” The old man walked into the forest and disappeared. Ryan set off at a run, his feet coming down heavily on the path. Thump thump thump. . . . Endlessly his feet pounded the dirt, running through bushes, keeping to the straight and narrow path. It’s all or nothing he thought, now or never. Carrying Marry through the dark forest, he began to lose sight of the sun, slowly entering the mountain ahead. He ran harder, holding Mary tightly in his arms. Strangers yelled at him from the trees to stay, to live forever, to enjoy his time as a child, but they held nothing but fear for him now, and he ran on. Finally, he broke through a group of trees just as the sun slipped behind the mountain, and what did he see in the distance but his family’s cottage, and his mother coming out calling his name.

Scotland Forever: Chapter 5 (a portion)

Dropping you right into the middle of the story here…..brief synopisis: Ian and Alanna are siblings, Joanne is a young French women rescued froma shipwreck, and the French are the bad guys, although Joanna is not. So….. 

-Time proceeded with out restraint, and it was more than a month after the shipwreck when Ian started his daily patrol of the hills. During the last month things had gone from bad to worse. Barrie, Todd, and their men had tried to keep it secret from their enemies that they knew anything about the French aid. But a week later the word somehow leaked out, and the fighting had been consistent. Ian had been in a few of these skirmishes, and had laid low the occasional French man. The bow was still his weapon of choice and had held up well through the clashes. His archery teacher, George Hood, had not been seen for a while.
 Apparently French dragoons had been seen patrolling the hills, decked out in a bad imitation of English dragoon uniforms. Barrie had figured that Cullen’s men and his French allies now outnumbered Todd’s friends. Especially as their casualty list had racked up to twenty dead. Already some of Todd’s friends had given up, and returned to their homes. That is, those who still had homes. The French had randomly started burning crofts around the countryside, leaving some homeless. Nonetheless, Todd had refused to give up so easily, and he was backed up by a few of the clans. The McLaifs, MacKays, Lairds, McHerits, and s were the ones that stood resolute behind the MacBrae family, they would not give up so easily.
 As Ian patrolled the hills and woods, he kept a sharp eye out for trouble. The top of a hill could conceal a French dragoon. A smattering of trees could hide a friend of Cullen. His duty was to watch out for any enemy troop movement in places where they shouldn’t be.
 Looking at the sun, he noted that he was heading west, away from his house and towards the sea. In fact, he realized that he was almost to the cliffs where he had seen the shipwreck happen a month ago. When he was less than a quarter-mile away from the cliffs, he caught site of his sister and her new friend Joanne, talking in the grass. He was surprised and worried when he saw them, he thought they knew better that to be out by themselves at this time.
 Approaching them, they looked up and Alanna started, putting her hand to her chest.
 “Och, ye scarred me!” she exclaimed, “where did ye come from?”
 Ian, looking disappointedly at her, stated, “I am patrolling the brae as I am supposed tae. Why are ye out here, alone?”
 “Well, were talking, is there a problem with that?”
 Aye,” continued Ian, ye should nae be out here at this time. Its dangerous.”
 Alanna retorted, “And what makes ye so bossy?”
 “Alanna!” exclaimed Ian authoritatively.
 She looked at her brother standing firmly in front of her, his bow and quiver slung across his back while his claymore hung from his belt that surrounded his kilt. “Alright, we shouldn’t be out here. I’m sorry.”
 Joanne had remained quiet all that time, watching the siblings talk, and no doubt trying to comprehend exactly what they were saying. She had progressed quickly in her learning of English, and could almost carry on a conversation. Now she spoke up, and said, “You walking, uh, on grass, non, hi..hill? Oui?”
 “Aye, I’ve been walking on the hills. What have ye been doing?” he smiled down at her.
 “Talk, eh… see.”
 Alanna translated, “I’ve been showing her around.”
 “Oh, I see showing her around the isl…” he paused, and listened. Then asked, “Do ye hear that?”
 “What?”
 “That drumming sound.”
 Alanna listened, then nodded, “Aye, it sounds like…”
 “Horses.” finished Ian in a whisper. “Over that hill to the east, you girls run south! I’ll distract the dragoons, because I’m sure that is who it is, French dragoons.”
He then turned and ran a little ways in a northerly direction, then stopped and looked back. Alanna had already gotten up and started running towards home, but Joanne was just standing there looking hesitantly after Alanna, then towards the sound of advancing hoof beats. Oh my gosh, thought Ian, I forgot, she’s French also! He watched with apprehension, as time seemed to stand still. But before the oncoming dragoons could top the hill, Joanne had made up her mind. And just as the dragoons did top the hill, the two young women disappeared into a clump of woods.
Then Ian realized that he was still in sight. And the dragoons saw him. Hastily he turned and ran, west. With his sword flapping at his side, Ian ran as fast as he could. Then he realized that he had trapped himself. In front of him was a small rise in the ground, which then sunk down slightly to the edge of the cliffs. He recognized this part of the cliffs to; it was the part in the shape of Italy, a peninsula of cliffs. There was no choice but to run straight, so Ian did.
The dragoons were galloping hard towards their sure prisoner, positive of his capture. They had just seen him disappear down the small rise, and know as they topped the rise they beheld their prisoner. But, much to their surprise, he was nowhere in sight. Shocked, they reigned up on their horses and scanned the small area where they had last seen him go. They even searched the area on foot, but to no avail. He was gone.

Ian breathed a sigh of relief as he dropped of the cliff side and onto the sand below. After a half hour of climbing down a cliffside, and praying not to be seen, he was exhausted. Even though the sea cliff had provided an abundance of foot and hand holds, descending had been quite a workout. He had just barely been able to disappear below the edge of the cliff before the French dragoons had arrived. As he had climbed down, he could hear them searching in frustration above him. Next time he would have to be more alert.
I hope the girls made it, Ian though worriedly. Why did Joanne nae escape tae her fellow French? She had the perfect chance. Och, it’s a good thing she did nae, she could have given away some valuable information. He pondered that as he walked down the beach, then hastily yet carefully back up to his croft. Much to his relief he didn’t see any more dragoons or foes. And when he entered the croft, he saw his family and friend sitting restlessly around the room.
But when he came through the door, his family sprang up and rushed over to see how he was doing. Barrie grabbed him by the shoulder and grinned at his son, relieved. Flora hugged him tightly, also relieved. Alanna grinned from ear to ear and hugged them all. Joanne, still sitting, just smiled and sighed thankfully.
 “Aye son, we’re bonnie glad ye’re a ‘right. We sure were anxious when the Alanna and Joanne got back and told us breathlessly what happened. What did happen?”
Ian explained, while Flora gasped occasionally in the background.
“Mother, it’s okay!” exclaimed Ian in reply to her gasps, “It’s over.”
“I ken, I ken, but its hard tae imagine ye in that danger.”
Barrie chuckled, “Aye mother, besides that is probably the most danger Ian will ever get in all at one time.”
How wrong he was.-

Kite

I had to do this in school, to come up with a poem that had a story in it, and it worked perfectly here!!! it’s about of kite, who like us, has rises and falls in life/wind. enjoy!

Kite

bring my kite to fly the breeze.

Unroll the string to catch the air,

And let the kite grab hold the wind.

And rise to take to flight against the blue.

Securely holds the wind in hand,

And rises high beyond my reach.

Unroll the string to catch more air.

The rise of confidence in me.

I flowed on breezes feeling strong,

When lack of air assures my fall.

I dip to ground and death for sure,

With certainty I see my doom.

When little by little I hear the wind,

Come rushing past and slip away.

I swiftly reach to grab at hope

And hold most tightly once I had.

More fast I climbed the blue once more,

To battle again the breeze of flight,

And feeling joy and hope at once,

Repeating conflict once again.

“Eddy”

A little while ago, I though it would be fun to write a sort of comedy about a man and a ghost that befriends him. All sorts of awkward situations would naturally arive, and I though it might be something worth writing about. As is normally the case, I never finished it. But I’ll post here the little bit that I did write, and you can let me know if you think I was onto something; who knows, maybe someday I’ll finish it.

Disclaimer: I don’t actually believe in ghosts.

–I feel that I must explain the events that led my neighborhood to be spoken of with fear and apprehension. I must explain why my neighbors go around expecting to be surprised, and why many of them have grey hair now instead of brown, black, blonde, or red hair. Why even I myself never know quite what to expect. It all started in some God-forsaken “ghost” town in Nevada.

 A desert in Nevada might seem like a strange place to be in the summer, but none the less that is where I found myself one clear Augusts evening. I had been passing through Nevada on my way north to my home, and when darkness began to fall, I was still in a wide and empty desert. I don’t know the name of this desert, but it could have been the Sahara desert for all I cared, as there was no civilized place I knew of in the next 200 miles. It had been a long and tiring day, so I had no desire to continue driving. The way I figured, I could find a decent spot on the desert road and just sleep in my car.

 As I pondered this idea, I suddenly approached a small town. I call it a town, but there were only 8 or so buildings, divided equally by the road I was on. When I entered the town, I stopped and looked around curiously. The place seemed to be deserted, and the buildings looked as if they dated back to the mid 1800’s. Along with a couple of shops, the town consisted of a saloon, hotel, and livery. All of the buildings were rotting, dusty, and in general, falling apart. I turned off my car, and stepped out of it. Not a sound could be heard but my own breathing and the quite sigh of the desert wind.

 Not being a superstitious man, I decided right off that this would be as good a place as any to stay the night. Now the question was whether to lodge in one of the buildings, or my car. It was almost completely dark now, and grabbing a flashlight, entered the sturdiest looking building, the hotel.

 The first room was obviously the lobby, with the front desk all dusty and cobwebby on the left against a wall. A short hallway went directly ahead, and I followed this. I examined each room skeptically. Most of them had holes and broken objects scattered all over the floor, but I finally came to one about halfway down the hall that was fairly decent. I turned left into the room and looked around. My back was to the door and I was standing in the middle of the musty room, when I hear a sound.

 In the hallway outside, I could distinctly hear the sound of chains dragging on the floor. I froze. The sound of chains continued for 5 more seconds, then stopped. I turned around slowly. Nothing in site. Then I heard a quick rattle of chains, a whirring sound, then a rattle of chains against floorboards again. This continued for a minute, then my curiosity got the better of me. Summoning up my courage, I approached the doorway, and peered down the hall to my left. What I saw shocked me.

 Only 3 yards or so down the hallway stood a transparent, white figure. It was dressed in a long shirt that went down to the floor. The ghost, for I had no doubt it was that, had chains around its wrists, and with these chains, oh it chills me even now, it was playing jump-rope (or rather jump-chain).
When it saw me staring speechlessly at it, the ghost let the chain fall to the ground. We stared at each other for a minute, it as speechless as I. “Oh,” exclaimed the ghost, as if suddenly remembering, ,“boo.” He smiled foolishly at me, then took a step forward and held his hand forward, saying, “Shake?”. No, I would not shake, choosing instead to flee bravely down the hallway and out the door of that dusty hotel. Springing hastily into my small SUV, I broke the sound barrier multiple times as I raced off into the sunset. Anything was better than sleeping in a building with a ghost.–

My First

Well, here is my first post. I’m all giddy inside. Haha. Well, I decided to shoot off with one of my poems. I call it my introduction. It’s a story of a guy who’s really insecure and needs help. he is in disstress and then finds hope! I hope you like it!

staring at the roof.

I stare at the roof,

Wandering ‘bout my mind,

As I look for the proof,

That I haven’t crossed the line.

I turn my head sideways,

But I’m staring into thought,

Thinking in snide ways,

And coming out distraught.

Thinking of people in general,

And consequences of actions,

Into my mind, enter all,

Thinking in small transactions.

So getting up from my bed,

Was not an easy feat,

My heart feels like lead,

But refuses to stop it’s beat.

As my thoughts turn to things around me,

My heart still conflicts inside,

And while my mind argues soundly,

It feels like I’ve already died.

I felt utter helplessness,

And completely bereft of hope,

Surrounded by terrible hellishness,

My life rolling down a slope.

But as I walked aimlessly,

I happened upon a skylight,

Physically, emotionally, my helpless plea,

The answer, wonderf’ly in my sight.

A sliver small thought,

A hope that had been long gone,

Something I had sought,

For such a time, and aeon,

Sunlight pure and clear,

Shining into the corners,

Begone all that which was fear,

Gone inside are the mourners.

Peace now fills me up,

A sense of being whole,

Love has filled my cup,

Making diamonds out of coal.

No more sadness of mind,

Distress has all but flown,

All of such is behind,

No more do I reap what I’ve sown.

 

Bo