Turning Over Ache

Nestled in the arms of a foothill, discomfort is aware of my ache.

Though the sky etches out a glorious sun…is it forsaken?

There is no warmth from the ground below.

I push this transition further and further into the granite strings to my heart.

Whether heaven be above awash in blue hue or…below in what is home.

Remorse prefer I walk alone.

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Gasping for Tears

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If she had cried…would it take away the ghastliness of great surprise?

Even as a witness…to her rain…

A gentle, caressing touch that penetrates the skin.

Humidity and its warming coat…left gingerly behind…

Among this…could I begin, again?

As a crow flies, tears fall from the skies.

Yet, never from a solemn women’s eyes.

Water pounds like a fist coursing itself from the heavens.

The road ahead, still parched and unforgiving.

As the crow flies, tears fall from the skies.

Yet, never from a solemn women’s eyes.

Black Sheep…Broken Throne

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I have been thinking about…sin, as of late.

When it ends?

Where it begins?

How it hovers around from within?

A snap of the bony spine that breaks when seated.

Why did someone else place their misdeeds…in my mind?

Why the cheating hearts of childhood passed down a broken a throne?

Madness Child?

A title handed down…for me to own.

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I have been thinking about sin…as of late.

How it is meant to control.

How it is a hand me down…stunting the soul,  as it grows.

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Fastened to the Earth

It is not the colorful display of flowers that enlists me.

Though the warmth they bring.

I await eagerly.

The majesty of a tree…I could ponder, again and again.

Its weight.

Its shelter.

Its ability to defend.

There is truth to the pine, the ash, the birch.

An honesty to being fastened to the earth.

And, even as the solo branch, lumbers to the ground.

It does so without remorse.

And, with little sound.

 

Veiled Hollows Abound

So true, the closer the destination.
The further it be… out of grasp.
So true, the ice forming over the grass.
What to make of an end…
I cannot meet.
Obvious, the hindered earth underneath my feet.
Jagged bone of soil all around.
Veiled hollowed abound.
Sometimes the miles traveled.
Seem not worthy my trial.
Whatever tomorrow brings.
Can it be worthy of my journey’s denial.imageedit__2982973039