As immeasurable pain touches my soul I cry out from the dark and lonely abyss. My thoughts are plagued with grief as sorrow takes hold and paralyzes my will. I have sought peace only to find war; I have sought love only to find hate; I have sought sunshine only to find gray skies and thunderous rain. In cold desolation I lie still as the freezing winds of fear and desperation take my warmth from me. Season by season I grow weaker as I contend with the harsh realities of my wretched existence. I awake to melancholy and go to sleep in persistent anxiety. Who will hear the cries of the sufferers? Pain is a deep and festering wound that leads to infection and sepsis of the soul. It eats away at happiness and contentment slowly and methodically until there is nothing left. The cries and wailing of the sufferers echo throughout, as a sad song is played. Crows gather on a ledge and stare as they bear witness to the mire. The sufferers stumble around in zombie like state as they try to find their way. The road to happiness and freedom seems to allude them, but they walk nonetheless. Their plight would bring tears even to the strongest and most powerful of men. To gaze upon them, is to gaze upon perpetual suffering. To look into their red and weary eyes, is to look into their souls. Souls of deep pain and sorrow. The story of their once joyful lives are now haunting memories of the past. Still, there is a light of hope every time someone stops and listens to their story while giving words of comfort and love.
Category: Prose
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As the darkness closes in I scream out in resolved subversiveness; the will of my spirit echoes throughout the earth and scorches the bottom of the heavens. The angels hear the agony and torture of my silent cries. A dove flies overhead and keenly searches my soul; she sees my pain and lands on my shoulder with a beautiful white gardenia. I inhale deeply as I savor the perfume of the flower; the light inside me is again rekindled.
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I lie awake at night, but sleep all day. My existence is in darkness because I can no longer see the light. I walk amongst the shadows because fear has debilitated my will. My thoughts consume me day by day. I am turned away and unloved by many who claim to understand my sorrow. Intrusive thoughts flood in, and amplify my trepidation. I am shunned by society and family. I feed on different forms of therapy to survive. I seek happiness, but to no avail. I am paralyzed as my heart rate increases and I start to sweat. I hope for release from my pain, but it seems I am destined to live in perpetual darkness. I am a vampire.
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A Mother’s love
Is a soothing voice,
A warm hug,
And a comforting kiss,
After a bad dream. -
Listening to one of my favorites from Sade, I contemplated the fear, the character in the song experienced as she waited for her matador to come home, while expecting bad news.
Sade asks a very poignant question in her lyrics – “Can she tame the beast that is her fear?” I thought about this and realized how profound a question it is in our everyday lives. Fear is indeed a beast, and it is destructive and unforgiving. Can we temper our fear even in the face of adversity?
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For those of us who face seemingly insurmountable odds in our lives. For those of us who have struggled, and given with nothing left to give. For those those of us who are misunderstood due to our internal anguish and silent turmoil. For those of us who sit in silent darkness late into the night and release tears without being seen. For those of us who have loved, and lost love.
Against All Odds – Phil Collins (1984)
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In sorrow I hope for joy.
In hell I hope for heaven.
In darkness I hope for light.
In pain I hope for comfort.
In suffering I hope for Peace. -
She walks in the night’s shadows, soliciting customers as they pass by. There is a sadness in her eyes; a profoundly deep and troubled look, that only the streets could fathom. The years have passed by, and her once radiant beauty has turned into a weathered face, and aging body. The streets are cold and unforgiving, as it takes of her essence and leaves her destitute with no assurance of life or future happiness. She is lost in a world of drugs and alcohol as she sells herself to feed her addiction. Her heart is heavy with sorrow and her story is one of pain and turmoil. She stands under a street light and lights a cigarette. She inhales deeply and allows the nicotine to enter her lungs and invade her bloodstream. Her eyes show no emotion as she stares into the dark night. Eyes that scour blocks and alleyways for signs of imminent danger, while at the same time keeping a keen sense for potential customers as she makes her rounds on a summer night in Hunts Point. She can feel a piece of her soul leave her every time the undignified exchange takes place. After the deed is done, crumpled and dirty bills are given, while more than flesh is taken. Still, the night goes on, as shadowy figures move about on the rough and gritty streets. She seeks out other peddlers of the night to make another exchange, but this time she will pay for the euphoria she seeks; it has become a part of her now. She relies on it to make it through the night. The days wane and the nights are long. It lies dormant during the day, but it is in the night, that the streets are awakened with activity. The sordid cycle is repeated again and again; Faces disappear and are never seen again. The years fade away like leaves in the wind. Some familiar characters can still be seen walking on dark blocks, as the sound of crushed glass can be heard under foot. A look into their eyes, and the soul can be seen. In a moment’s notice their story is told.
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Lord, grant me solace. Grant me peace.

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I’m so in love with you and I could never forget the first time we . . .
laid eyes on each other; it was then that I had visions of kissing you . . .
I went out on a limb and told you my true feelings for you, and it was then we found love in each other’s arms . . .
