Reflection

Tears falling in torrents from the grey sky,
Patter upon her creaky roof.

Droplets lusting to fill the spaces of whatever they can,

Infiltrate each crack in her ceiling,

Unapologetically falling onto a dust ridden floor.

One by one they accumulate,

Drawn together with magnetic attraction.

Precariously she tip-toed towards their watery gathering.

With the illumination of naught but a candlelight,

She peered down at the puddle grasping at her feet.

A concealed figure gazed back at her,

Veiled and irresolute the girl

Wore a mask of emotionless expression.

She lingered entranced in unwavering consternation,

The guise she wore was not alien,

For she had numerous semblances.

It was unique though, in it's glimmer of awareness,

Detectable just above her dark angled eyebrow.

The veil recognized it’s shared similarity with its partners.

Parallel in their fervent desire,

To remain furtively and elusively undercover,

Shielding the veracity which lies shrouded,

Underneath their reflection.  

Repentance

Gnawing, tearing, clawing, its way
from the inner core of her being,
painfully throbbing like blistered flesh
Roasted by an open flame.

Her soul pulsates with tidal waves of
Excruciating sorrow.
Poised upon an earthen floor, she was
Dying to set it free,
Desperately attempting to liberate the
Remorse reverberating inside her body
Release would not come.

Tears refused to manifest themselves
at the corners of her hazel eyes.
No matter how much she
Yearned to shed her overwhelming
Turmoil, to pluck it out as the
Robin does the earthworms,
littered beneath sodden grass, they
Recoiled in unflinching abnegation.

Glassy eyed she looked up at the
Midnight sky, expecting to be met
With only darkness.
Rather twinkling stars greeted her sight,
Radiating hope as they
Floated serenely, in the vast
expanse of darkness.
Reaching her breaking point pain ceased,

Regret was unmasked in the twilight
before her, as it truly is: intangible nothingness.
Reversal no longer mattered...
All that definitely did was
Infallible, veracious
Repentance.

Cloudy Liberation

Lofty, billowy clouds

Wander across the vast blue sky

Aimlessly drifting, for this is their job.

To float forward and back, down and up

Surveying the world below in splendid indifference.

Frequently they're content within this niche, 

Simply floating by with a creamy white expression

Plastered about their vast expanse 

Of a luxuriously, ever changing face.

Haphazardly, they feel the world below 

Deserves a much needed cleansing.

How ever we might protest it is not our say.

We have no input in the matter 

for we cannot stop the clouds.

Try though we might they are forever above our grasp

Never to be captured, conjured, or held.

Each one different from the next 

Assuming the shape of whatever it desires to be,

Like a chameleon blending into the background, 

becoming as it wants to be seen.

Collectively they pay us little mind

As we rarely give them much attention either.

For they are only ivory frosted scenery,

A negligible background, detached from

Our busy important daily life.

Oh but how lovely it would be

To waft through the sky as the puffy white cloud.

Cohesively separate, as I overshadow

Chaos of the mundane world below

Alive, with but one job:

Sliding about freely.

Balance

The sky inked the ground

with its dusky black pigment,

while a sliver of silvery moonlight

struggled to illuminate all it could.

Fall wind cut through the air

like daggers signifying the bone chilling wrath of Winter.

Snow flakes parachuted to the ground in trios

congregating on the frosted earth

ready to be trod upon.

Each one unique in shape and size

they comprehended what it meant to trampled

for as they gracefully tumbled

content enlightenment gleamed within each gelid glitter.

The old owl hooted within his misty hollow

yearning for the radiance of spring,

for the serenity of sunshine,

during distant days to come.

Though in the present he must tarry

For what is summer without winter?

What is darkness in the absence of light?

What is understanding apart from ignorance?

Would that there were balance as this world

Ceaselessly spins.

The archaic owl was wisdom for he

fathomed this veracity,

As he once again reverted to his intangible fantasy.

Uniformity

Queen of the forest, Maple stood tall and impressive.

Her Appendages reached out,

As if to touch those inferior

With mocking meliority.

Golden leaves clothed the Queen in her glory.

While one leaf stood apart from all others,

It gleamed a golden yellow as if spun from pure gold.

Palpating with scintillating beams of light,

It dwelt with a unique force of life
Different from the world which engulfed it.

A place of honour it hung, 
bequeathing the Queen her power.

The Crisp autumn wind lusted after the leafs beauty,

Decidedly Wind stole the glowing leaf.

Leaving the Queen to wither 
Void of her elegant beauty

Victorious in its burglary the brisk breeze slunk away,

Over the red and yellow hills Wind flew

Ceaselessly carrying it's helpless prize.

Meanwhile the impotent golden leaf struggled

Snatched from the only life it's known,

While the fear of the unknown loomed below.

Willfully, the leaf hung on in the hopes of home,

Until it could no longer, 
Alas broken under pressure. 

At last the howling halted,

While the once magnificent golden leaf,

Parachuted into the awaiting forests open arms.

Unintentionally analogous with everyone else.

Cheated

I remember the emanating warmth of the sun

enveloping the world in his scorching embrace.

Illuminating the natural man-made elegance

of sooty factories and spacious tenements.

I remember the cool spring breeze with its long swirling fingers

stretching my hair in all directions

like an intricate sweater swiftly unravelling at the seams.

I remember the sounds of my loyal comrades

with their mischievous shouts

Echoing through the crowded streets of citified life.

I remember their battle scarred faces, smudged black and white,

together orphans, one and the same.

Urchins neglected, tossed aside with naught

But our memories.

All I have now is remembering...

For I was cheated.

Never ending progress of time slithered along

Squandered, month's transformed to years

Fleeting euphoria vanished.

Leaving me glancing back at the good old days

Forever out of reach.

Until my world has shattered under the harsh reality:

Life isn’t fair, sometimes you get cheated.

Deep Seated Hope

As the keys start to click on my keyboard, sorrow bursts from me in painful waves of angst. Filled to the brim with regret, and a fervent desire to change I begin writing. In an effort of escape my emotions mutate into droplets at the corner of my eyes. Nagging at every corner, every single inch of my insides, is the reflex to heave heavy sobs of torment. How did I get here? I demand! Where do I go from here? Yearning for release I ponder the answers to these questions. However convulted, warped, scummy, the enity my mind has become, buried down inside the answers lie. Deeply rooted into the core of my heart, there still shines an eternal light. One I feared long ago had gone out permanantly. The flame whose sole existence I questioned time after time, burned all the brighter. It was not until the point in which my life has never felt darker, not before I have never felt more alone, that I could feel those answers that beacon of hope blazing within me. It is the voice that echoes the loudest, resounding in commanding tones, STOP what you are doing! Accompanied by all its foes claiming that it is no fun. Trying to deny it very audible voice is extant at all. What shall you do? Are you going to continue to follow your foes? You know the road they will lead you down, you have experienced its dark, and slimy pleasures. You have felt the sting of its companionship. The vision of its thorny traps envelop your mind and appeal to almost every fiber of your being. However. their is a companionship exponentially more rewarding. You know who he is, travel down his path, take up your cross, and follow Him