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Literature Text
There will always
be rivers
on this earth
in considering
the snow
when it dies -
crystal,
then fluidity
then mist
on the waters,
rising and falling
from the clouds -
to morph and sink
into the earth
for the earth
can not hold back
those tears
for long
from the river...
flowing, flowing
to the ocean
in salty agony...
For all must change
around you -
your family
will grow old -
your friends
will travel
and be lost
to you -
there will be
weddings and holidays,
memories so
sweet
that they hurt -
and bright, light
Christmas trees -
green lives,
sacrificed
for one day
in a warm house
with laughter...
All will be vorbei...
snow and fog
and clouds
on the horizon
of our uncertain,
frightening futures...
Why you can not
see the forest
any longer
than you have to
but you will
always feel
the river...
be rivers
on this earth
in considering
the snow
when it dies -
crystal,
then fluidity
then mist
on the waters,
rising and falling
from the clouds -
to morph and sink
into the earth
for the earth
can not hold back
those tears
for long
from the river...
flowing, flowing
to the ocean
in salty agony...
For all must change
around you -
your family
will grow old -
your friends
will travel
and be lost
to you -
there will be
weddings and holidays,
memories so
sweet
that they hurt -
and bright, light
Christmas trees -
green lives,
sacrificed
for one day
in a warm house
with laughter...
All will be vorbei...
snow and fog
and clouds
on the horizon
of our uncertain,
frightening futures...
Why you can not
see the forest
any longer
than you have to
but you will
always feel
the river...
Literature
Lost for words
I used to be able to take a group of ugly words, and turn them into a beauty.
I used to be able to have the words tell a story.
Now I’m at a loss for words, wishing I could bring back the inspiration I had before.
I know if I force it out, my words will become lies.
Un-relatable, and confusing.
Despite my efforts to change this.
It’ll remain the same.
Till I find my inspiration again.
Literature
Cloudless
I've seen a blind woman
Growing cold outside,
An older image of
Our younger selves.
She wears a shard of mirror
And a broken sword
Screaming "Look at yourself!"
She is the scales; she is the statue,
She is what we should have always been,
But she has long since been replaced by greed.
This eternal rain of dust has fallen
Down upon the scales,
And they're broken,
Rusted, and brown...
Falling down
What gives you the right to
Take life away?
In the dawning of our darkest hour,
Who says what's right?
What gives us the right to
Take life away?
While these images are cutting through
A cloudless September sky.
Literature
Styrofoam Breath
A new sun rises,
A day has dawned.
The tables have turned
And the curtains are drawn.
Static faces in blank disguises,
Two suns can't set before another rises.
Gazing to the unknown horizon,
My whole world is torn.
Flowing from her eyes and into mine,
Prospects are reborn.
The vision forever lingers:
Hair clasped in rigorous fingers.
The sky was murky,
Two drops of color lost in a glass.
Stirred once and left...
Left to sort things out with the amorphous deep.
Frail foundations
Without fair warning,
And angels at night
Have never dreamt of morning.
Expressionless smiles,
Wrinkled, cracked plastic...
Hollow words
neither believes.
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