In my suffering I have found my strength.
Tag: Mental Health
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Act 1: He is born into the world with the pain and screams of his mother. After the agony of labor, sweat and tears, a smile is garnered. A soft blanket. The warmth of a mother’s love. A soft kiss.
Act 2: His pain is immeasurable; his suffering endless. Rough drafts of his epitaphs are written in blood. Hemoglobin is bright red in his fiery veins; life is in him, but more and more he craves the perceived stillness and peace of death.
Act 3: He is reborn as his constant screams reverberate under a blood moon and a darkened sky. He is reborn with tears streaming and in stark nakedness. The grey wolves hear his piercing cries; they howl. The earth is shaken. The gods turn their heads and weep.
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On a metal gurney the finality
Of suffering lies.
There is no more breath.
There is no more life—
In wide open eyes.
Oh the heaviness of her pain
On darkened days;
The wailing; the weeping,
And silent cries.
Heaviness of sorrow
Was plainly seen,
But society purposely
Turned a blind eye.
Still she valiantly fought …
The uncaring and the mockers,
The image of her face
Will eternally haunt.
Left behind in her room
Is a coffer,
And inside it, a gold heart locket
With the inscription:
“In My Heart Forever”
That was given to her by her mother.
A note was found beside it.
Who will help carry her?
This beautiful soul that graced
The earth with her presence.
Her piercing hazel eyes,
And long hair,
dark as Raven’s feathers.
As they look upon her,
Her adornment will be seared
In their memories.
A fighter; a sufferer;
A carrier of heavy sorrow
That weighed upon her —
Who among us can judge her?
In peace she will rest gently;
Perhaps she will enter the pearly gates,
Or walk the halls of Valhalla —
There is a peaceful stream
In many a dream, where the living
Have sworn to have seen her.Her Epitaph:
“Remember me not
For forlorn and pain;
But in the morning dew,
And the rising of the sun,
Three times, lovingly
Whisper my name.” -
Winds of life toss violently. Ruminations entrap in purgatory.
There is no redeeming quality. There is no magical ending to the movie.
The credits have rolled, and the theater has been emptied, but I sit alone
With tears streaming in darkness.Utterances are mumbled and incoherent to the naked ear. The dark parasite Feeds from anxiety and irrational fear; the gluttonous scene renders me an Unwilling host.
I am gaunt from consumption. Hollow and listless …
Hope is measured in terms of respirations. Time is non-existent in the
Torment of endless darkness; eyes turn dark like black ink in shallow water.I can hear the wails of the woman in the black veil; her cries are torturous
As she pushes an empty stroller; the tattered train of her black dress
Dragging behind her; I dare not pray, lest my anger invokes utterances of sacrilege;“God where the f—k are you?”
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Leaves blow in frigid winds.
Illness incapacitates,
Leading to listless state.
Long held tears are shed
In cold stillness.
Memories of past loves
Vaguely appear.
Silence is shattered
By sudden wailing.The condensation of
Heavy and rapid
Winter breaths are clearly seen,
but forlorn is cloaked in
A black hoodie.
Wailing ceases,
And apparent calm transcends.
Warm blood spills on cold snow;
Stillness is frigid. -
For long I have been forlorn
I was born in the cold December winter
My DNA is the agony of my mother
Her torment runs in my blood
They say it can be passed through the genes
My love for her is even stronger. -
I’m relying on Coltrane to get me through the day. A wonderful rest of the day to you all.
John Coltrane – Giant Steps
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In fiercest battles and whirling winds
I pray the Lord forgive my sins.
The scars of my wounds, they tell the tale;
For those who are are blind, read my torment in braille.
My heart is sorrowful, and my boots are worn,
My clothes are tattered and my will is torn.
If nothingness then calls my name,
Will I relent or live on in pain?
In numbing irrelevance the seasons pass;
I care not less how long the winter lasts.
The spring will come, and the summer blooms,
But I will not know in my darkened room;
Many lovers have left after boastful claims
Of staying by my side to subside my pain.
At ungodly hours I may read love letters
Of twenty years past when things seemed better.
The loving nuances, and the promises made;
the plans we had, that in time did fade.
“I will love you forever.” “Sincerely yours.”
“Without you there is no life.” “It is you I adore.”
But to know my name is to know my pain,
And to know my pain is continuous rain. -
Cold winter winds blow tears away from green eyes;
Sobbing reverberates in the frigid night.
Towering trees shed leaves to acknowledge her agony.
Her loving heart is deeply wounded from sorrow;
A bright winter moon highlights a trail of red snow.
Intimate Compositions 