Sometimes I believe we are more of what we are running from than what we are running towards – JLF
I walked straight into your eyes, pools of light that made me high. You held me tight and told me why there was no reason to fight or fear.
But night soon came, I was doomed from the start. I knew this already with my broken heart. We danced in moonlight, bare skin, glistening bright. You moved in me and took me high.
As our bodies melted, your lips eased my soul. My neck all a quiver. Skin now brailed with gold.
I wish you hadn’t come. I was doomed from the start and who’s here now to mend my sobering heart?
I trusted words knowing all too well, they were words to entice, not words to uphold.
I retreat now back into the dark, away from the bright lights of promise, away from that spark.
I knew that I was doomed from the start.
The earth spins, as we feel our minds wander across all of the possibilities that life could be. We unbalance it for a moment. The creative spark igniting the torch, we see all of the possibilities of the future.
We create this ever changing miraculous world we live in, yet sometimes we don’t even realise who is behind the wheel steering us into the tomorrow. We have the opportunity to create such wonderful moments, to rise above all of the destruction we sometimes see. But other times we welcome the disaster.
Perhaps their is beauty in the broken, in the pure release of it all. It’s so honest. So brave. It is a mirror of the strength that our souls carry and gives others hope to know that we can overcome even the darkest of times.
Light is beautiful, but it is only perceived as beauty because of this dichotomy. Perhaps it makes us feel powerful and like we have control. Or perhaps it’s the sheer joy knowing you aren’t in the grips of darkness when you are in fact in the light.
But there is beauty in both and when you see this, our worlds become larger. The possibilities endless and the amount of joy we gain from life, infinite. Never judge in a moment as there are always many shades yet to come. The next may be even brighter than before and even from the darkest night still shines hope
The window panes shook from an angry voice, hallow and gruff, he rumbled with noise. He clapped his hands with a fiery slap. He rubbed his brow, sweat going splititty splat.
He then spoke to me. Each word as a breeze, of fiery breath that could freeze. My heart beat faster and faster still. When you gaze at him, his eyes they chill.
Why oh why so mad, I asked of him? What have I done? Then CRASH went the tin.
Have I been bad just laying here? Why so loud? Please don’t come in.
He replied to me with a mournful growl, a flood of tears then came crashing on down. I realised then it wasn’t anger he shed, just sadness, and worry, while I was laying there in my bed.
His heart ached, as did mine of the fear we both felt. As the world crumbled beneath us, both our hearts did melt. We talked then for hours of worries of woes. Now every time I hear him I feel I’m not alone.