Where does the weary wind go?
it seeps into the hearts
of the woed….
there it rustles
and stirs
up the tendrils
of hope.
it blinds the eyes
that see no future.
it breathes life
into the lives
that desire
no being.
its fingers trace
upon a teary face
the long forgotten
caresses
of a loved one
lost in waiting.
the listening ear
does sometimes wish
that its lips did not advise so well.
Dullish vessels
live to keep
much hidden well.
stones lay in strewn in one’s path
so that through trips
one will know how to fall
a little more well.
hope and nectared dreams
stay and seem to
keep all going quite well.
a selfish heart always
will wish its tears
were not such an endless well.
needling Silence stifles struggling Reason
Fury sees its chance to unfurl
Wrath sees its path cleared
Rage becomes reborn.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
is there ever
a day that goes by
that tears do not fall from the burdened eye?
A stony front
stubbornly tries
to seal its bleeding cracks.
no words are spoken without full thought, or so pretense vainly suggests.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
silenced reasons
mute yet struggling
astute yet mumbling
trying yet fumbling
to be heard.
No other reason
then from the goodness of your heart
you act without needing to
and that is all that matters.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I hate to love you:
I am always yours,
I nor you are ever mine,
but as yours, as yours…as your only own…
I yearn…
for ours.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
my lips are bruised
from too many bitten back words
the tears only make them burn.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
you say you shouldn’t say
but you say it anyways
what height do you achieve
in bringing down what you held so high
trodding on what you notice
yet don’t.
intotheindigo 