Dear God, I know that we don’t talk that much and that I might not seem like your biggest fan, but I’d like to thank you, yes thank you, even though you didn’t create the world in 7 days, even though you are not the one source of cosmic understanding, despite all that, I’d like to thank you, you did something beautiful, you made people come together somehow, Religion is something that I think is beautiful, to able to believe in something that is beyond yourself, I mean, the system isn’t perfect, but still, we are all just humans aren’t we? we are trying, we fail at times, but we also succeed.
Maybe I shouldn’t thank you God, maybe I should just thank ourselves, yes I think I’ll do that. Thank you.
There was a day in early June I met this girl, she shined like the moon..
She was nothing in particular, a friend of a friend at most, not knowing of the cost, I moved on not knowing what I’d lost..
Later, in the night of June, I lay crying, my only company the moon full of gloom.
Betrayal, hate and fear painting pictures that won’t disappear..
Alone, the vast pit of darkness growing from inside, tearing holes in my soul..
The end is near, scratching messages in my skin about what’s within..
My parched face, dry with tears that fell like the late night rain..
Then something happened, the weight gone, life got easy.
It’s because of you, the friend of a friend suddenly became more, a voice of reason,
Someone who cared, someone who knew, the pain, the sorrows, she understood it all.
Life became fun, everyday a smile, a reason to be happy, all forgotten..
I planned ahead, the dreams filling my head, but still I lay alone in bed, wondering what’s right and what’s wrong.
But this girl had a lover, our love was not meant to be, so I tucked the dreams away and continued without dismay.
We grew closer, the bond got stronger, and trust was never in any doubt..
Her curiosity grew, she asked me about love, if there were any for her, afraid to lie, I said like it was, that love is, and will be the feeling that I hold for her..
Surprised and chocked, her heart was locked, but not for me, for him..
She said she loved me, but only as a friend, she did not want to lose me, the dearest friend of all, but still I fall..
Like a tourniquet she choked my heart, back now where it all had started..
Where did the world go?
Months passed
Then I realized, how stupid I was, at loss yes, but slowly learning.
The right path is not someone else’s, the path is mine, and I choose how to walk it.
Not alone.
Not with you.
You are.
I am.
Just be, what I want to be.
I may be alone, but not quite as much as you think.
You saved me from the brink.
And I thank you for that.
March on..
Oblivious.
The airlock closed behind him, he sighed and he was quickly followed by the sound of the ship’s computer greeting him with a metallic monotone, male voice:
“Welcome back Captain, how was the hunt?”
“Ventilation process initiated.” Uttered yet another digitalized voice, this time female, she had a more human voice, almost like one of those British youngsters who hung around coffee shops and gave sarcastic remarks regarding the waiters commercialized clothes.
“When I look up at the night sky, and I know that, yes, we are part of this Universe, we are in this Universe, but perhaps more important than both of those facts is that the Universe is in us. When I reflect on that fact, I look up—many people feel small, because they’re small and the Universe is big, but I feel big, because my atoms came from those stars.” - Neil DeGrasse Tyson [x]
I can smell her on every page.
I hold onto this book, it’s a paperback with a broken spine, I hold it close to my heart, second for second.
I’ve drawn little hearts on the pages I like, the chapter in which I started to know you, I’ve underlined your name with a happy smile, beaming ear to ear.
In the back of this book of life, I signed with my name, while drawing pictures of unicorns and elves happily dancing under the rainbow.
From page to page I like to fondle with the corners, fold the paper into funny looking curls, and then folding them back again, or just leave them like they are.
Sometimes I like to leave the book open in the wind, sometimes the wind will take some of the pages and turn them at its own will, then I’ll just as quickly as the wind grab it back and read the page that is left open, cherish the moment depictured at the page.
I close my eyes, remembering what had passed, wondering if it will last.
The cover of the book is green, serene like it’s depicting a scene.
Fields of softest green, I lay feeling the dream, I open the book again, page down and page up again, and then I close my eyes again, using the book as a tent, covering my eyes from the sun.
At night I sit by my desk, reminiscing about what have been and what’s to come.
To bed now, In the dark, I lay with a tinted smile, stroking the cover of my book, rugged and flawed, I can feel the pulse of life, I read the title, written in cold gold, “Memories”..
Like a lullaby it sings to me..
“Dream, Dream and become all you can be..”
“Like we are, you shall become..”
“When all hope is gone, remember no not what is wrong..”
“Remember the dream, remember me..”
“When in doubt, just open the book, feel the warm embrace of memories”
Lullaby.
I still have the memories at least..
Keeping my levees from breaking; Release water and writ onto paper.
Little by little; If neglected; My mind would drown in the ever darkening madness.
Every poem; A gasp for air.
by ~Abygael-x
The stoney silence of a love that died,
From the decaying ruins of a heart that lied.
The blackened mystery that clouds the mind,
Leaves doubt and misery for souls to find.
The whispering unfaithful plague the winds,
Telling the night of the shameful sins.
Broken spirits haunt the wood,
And ageing feet taint the mud.
Blood drenched hands search the skin,
For the infected wound where pain went in.
Cries and screams echo the halls,
As the veil of mist begins to fall.
Shrouding the land with endless tears,
Spilled for the sake of 100 years.
Generations of lies fill the history,
Leaving but an answer of darkened mystery.
What lies
The rain is coming, I can feel it in the airwaves, fleeting and fickle like the wind, you might not see it as I do, a moving orchestra of tangible sound, moving from cloud to cloud.
If you are lucky, you might hear it sing something for you, a melancholic symphony that touches everything.
Mountains and hilltops, bushes and trees, rocks and pebbles.
You and even me.
The rain just falls, without care for what is beneath.
It just sings..
Walking along a dark cobblestone road; Illuminated only by shining circles; Streetlight has all turned cold.
The shifting horizon that never seems to stay the same; Like a wall of mixed emotions; All the colors left in gray scale.
Shadows spelling out demons hidden in shade; Dark butterflies catching unwanted attention, soaring like the paint off a black wall.
Back now inside, don’t look outside, everything is supposedly on fire, close your eyes, the sun is down, you are safe and sound; The darkness on your walls are just empty threats, crows resting on your shelf, they are not there.
Only the magical butterflies that reside where you lie; Those are real.
