I curl up by the crackling fire
Because I have come from the cold
I let it warm me up, stirring life in me
I listen to the flames as they speak
I let the fire taste me as I gaze
I welcome it into my heart
Because I want this burning flame
Not for destruction but for purpose
Great wisdom is found
In the crackling of the flame
I burn myself as I try to draw closer
I just want to stay here and sleep
But there are things to do
And I am weak
Back into the cold I stumble
Dreaming of the fire
Wishing I could alight it
In my heart and others
But when the spark does ignite
The ashes of my soul
Something in me fights
To snuff out the light
I want to hold and to share.
The fire is my soul and I feel it when I write or when I go to those I call my friends and family. A feeling of such warmth, purpose, clarity and
compassion, wisdom and unity. It is my only wish to embody these and to spread them- yet my attempts to change have proved fruitless so far, and I
quickly grow tired of living in words alone and of throwing my dead weight at those I love...and I quickly grow tired of living in words alone and of
throwing my dead weight at those I love and of burning myself on the wisdom they speak that I seek
I wrote that one this morning and these next two are older
Stuck in a rut
nowhere to go but up
still digging with a shovel
tired and lost but not alone or confused
Cursed with clarity, damned by Sloth
What to do when one fails themselves?
When the mind is treasonous, and the body follows suit?
martyred by my own beliefs
hanging myself with my own weight
I can't do any better than I'm doing, but I know I can do so much more
Habitual #up, 'nothing but talk'
How long before I can actually walk?
I'm tired of falling flat on my face
I know the ground like the back of my eyelids
Clinging to dignity and to shame
Fear and hatred, of the same
Using my revulsion of my behavior to propel myself into actually living my beliefs
One step at a time, but there's so much to do-and where do I even go?
Yet I fear my capacity for B.S is endless
great for dealing with others but not for ones self
There's no better time than now
No better place than here
Nowhere to stand nowhere to fall
Caught in a twilight gloom
the haze between awake and asleep
like a spiritual sleep paralysis
sitting here with broken pieces, watching the world burn
trying just to drift through, with a mind that churns
what good is a solution, when you cannot use it?
what good is the way, seeing but forsaken?
unable to take but a step, it appears an illusion
made of light, i try to see, try and be
what is it that inhibits me? for this, i breathe
knowledge is gained, but the chains not broken
the key is in hand, but i cannot even turn it.
staring at the hand, willing it to turn,
what good is will, when it cannot rest what yearns?
trying to fly, trying to fight
but the enemy is nowhere in sight
the enemy is me, you see, and he keeps me chained
a worthless mediocrity, such thoughts are his weapons
the choices are slim, the chances even slimmer
sink or swim, but im not even in water
the plight, is the fight, yet to rest is to be consumed
nowhere to run, nowhere to turn,
when every choice is grimm and each is darker than the last,
there is a pathway of light, i see it but cannot follow
each step sinks through, releasing swirling darkness
clouding the mind, numbing the soul
yet i would prefer agony than to give in to such a foe
edit on 28-5-2017 by LucidWarrior because: (no reason given)