Hair with hues of blue, as the darkest raven -
Deep, lustrous pools of passion look out,
Seeing not what stands patiently before him,
All, in fear, this invisibility brought about.
What speaks to and urges on the soul -
The glorious passion that ever burns within;
Trust never being an option, as it seems -
Would the opposite of that be such a sin?
You see letting go as taking away this fire -
That which keeps your spirit driving;
Yet, this the very thing - what you truly need -
This fear is robbing your spirit of thriving.
Dance in the moonlight to the sound of the waves -
Celebrate every emotion you can feel;
Wake up and truly be alive in the light -
Let go - and finally, let your heart heal.
It is the heart that drives all things to success -
This, the ultimate and one simple rule;
Without it, struggles exist by leaps and bounds -
With it, removed are the obstacles of life's school.
Your heart speaks; your passion is waiting -
Open up, let go, and let all that pent up love flow;
Only through the heart does real success await you -
All it requires is just simply letting go.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Trust the Heart
Labels:
empathic poetry,
life poem,
love poem,
love poetry
Monday, January 17, 2011
Spawned by Addiction
Anxiety ridden, always waiting -
Tuned to the one hundredth degree;
Lost in the ugly dreaded moment,
Knowing what never can be.
This thing has its nasty hold -
Carrying you without consciousness,
Breaking every emotion within;
Taking you away to its nothingness.
So not a thing that can just be observed -
Caught in the rigid emotional trap;
Knowing you are the only one with keys -
Only you can draw this map.
This thing which you think you so love -
This thing for which you have no control;
Steals you away beneath the grime,
Ripping apart what is left of your soul.
Tuned to the one hundredth degree;
Lost in the ugly dreaded moment,
Knowing what never can be.
This thing has its nasty hold -
Carrying you without consciousness,
Breaking every emotion within;
Taking you away to its nothingness.
So not a thing that can just be observed -
Caught in the rigid emotional trap;
Knowing you are the only one with keys -
Only you can draw this map.
This thing which you think you so love -
This thing for which you have no control;
Steals you away beneath the grime,
Ripping apart what is left of your soul.
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