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Don't Weep Just YetDon't Weep Just Yet
The rain pours down onto you
Wrapped in your grieving
Unable to see even the bright city lights around you
Or the sweet grass that grows up from turmoil not unlike yours
Could you spare a moment,
For the world around you?
Can you take a second to breath in relief?
There's not much in this world
That cant be fixed by something,
So take your head up off your shoulders,
And see that its alright.
The world isn't ending anytime soon,
So don't dwell on the horrible past,
Or the day ahead of you.
Only think of the happiness you're missing;
Think of the food you haven't tasted yet,
The creations you haven't made yet,
The voices you haven't heard yet.
Think of this,
This weird little poem,
Its not so bad.
Will You Still Save Me?Will You Still Save Me?
these thoughts plague me
bubbling amply inside me
with fretful stretches of imagination.
What am I without this?
What are you without me?
Struggling in a mire
looking for your hand to pull me out
of this wavering indecision,
you stand by the edge
and don't realise how close I am
to sinking down into oblivion.
It's never been much of a problem
but desires are strong
and I feel passionately for
that which you do not care to show-
that which I search for,
of which I am unsure.
If I asked to be made whole
it would not happen.
If I asked to be raised out of the muck
it would still taint my skirts.
But if I asked you to save me
would you come to my call
and rescue my bleeding heart?
Would you be the knight
who would protect me from the burning hellfires
that plague my soul?
Or will you stand and watch
as I resolve into nothing-
a mere speck in the universe
that once was something beautiful and alive?
Will you ignore the attempts I a
My world is topsy-turvy,
spinning like a handsomely carved wooden toy top
walking around and around the table
to try and put the floor back in place
to where it should be-
underneath my feet
Wringing my hands to feel something new
I pace and I think;
This feels so familiar-
the honest hurt and disbelief
rising like a tidal wave that threatens to crush my very soul
the one I had worked so hard to save-
stranding dying fish on the rocky shores
beating ever so slowly
until the dark of despair takes them
and hollows out their cares and worries
until there is no one home-
no one at all.
What will happen
when the toy stops spinning
and the truth is revealed in its invisible tracks?
what will happen when the waves recede
and the harsh ocean calms?
Will I be left standing alone,
on the edge of a ruined sunset?
The MountainThe Mountain
Cold winters bind me here
where the landscapes are unforgiving
and the sharp scent of pine sap
colors the air
with a rejuvenating sense of clarity.
clamber around in the darkness
feasting on fear
and weaker things that struggle as I do
to cling to each breath
like a anchored rope.
there are no slouching mountain-sides
or crooked horizons-
the paths are winding,
veering into shaded glens
and detouring towards hidden waterfalls-
but dedicated to the summit of success,
where life is found in just breathing,
in just being;
life bows to the harsh wind,
respecting the motives of change
and the unseen
but does not move
to let the unknown sweep it off the snow-crested peaks
to scatter the pieces
to the crannies and caves of the dark slopes below.
I am bound-
not by fear,
but by the beauty of a life well-wrought-
that like a crystal cavern
took years to form,
and ages to perfect-
one that is still not perfect.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More