An Alternate Reality

Archive for the ‘Inspiration’ Category

In Pain

Sometimes I literally want to die
die to my pain
die to my frustrations
die to my self pity

There must be more than just this.
I must be more than just this.
So, I cry and let the tears
show me how to live again.

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Fog

There is something about fog,
mysterious and intriguing,
the way it covers up
all manner of things
and then reveals them slowly
as if to give us time to make sense of it all.

There is something about fog,
quiet and peaceful,
the way it muffles sounds
in blankets of stillness
and then strangely distorts them
as if to make us listen more closely.

There is something about fog,
thick and moist,
the way it leaves its mark
in dew and dampness
and then disappears completely
as if to remind us to dry our own tears.

Missing Morning Glories

The leaves are green
but the vines are bare,
 
Something is missing.
 
I breathe and I move
and I do all my chores, but
 
Something is missing.
 
The vines seem so sad and empty,
as does my heart and my life.
 
Something is missing.
 
Why are there empty stems?
Where are the bright purple flowers of hope?
 
Something in my soul is lost and pines
for the missing morning glories.

How Can I?


How can I tell you not to cry
when tears are streaming down my face?
 
How can I tell you not to be afraid
when I walk around in constant anxiety?
 
How can I tell you to be strong
when sometimes I can barely lift my head?
 
How can I tell you to just have faith
when I’m not sure I believe in it?
 
But how can I tell you to just give up
when I need you here with me so much?
 
And how can I tell you it’s not worthwhile
when there is at least one spec of joy awaiting.
 
All I can say is this is your life
and I respect the way you are feeling.
 
And although I can’t take this away from you
I’ll walk with you as long as you need me.

Perspective


When even the rainbow colors are merely shades of gray,
I know it is only my dark glasses.

The Valley of Despair


Lost
in a twilight world
where memories and reality overlay,
 
I walk in a fog of pointlessness
uncaring where I go
or what I do.
 
Mountains loom on either side
and close up behind me as I go,
forcing me forward, ever forward.
 
But to where?
Why?
What does it matter?
 
Still, I go.

In the Silence


In the silence
            there is nothing
            and everything.
In the silence
            Divine Breath speaks
            by saying nothing at all.
In the silence
            all things drift away
            and yet the emptiness is full.
In the silence
            I find myself
            by losing myself.
All there is,
            all there will ever be, already exists
            in the silence.