Petal's blog: "Poetry"

These eyes they grieve in pity for my heart. I have known the suffering of every tear utterly undone they fall. Will they remember the words I spoke? My gentle heart goes willingly with her, but I must remain here. Weeping, I then will speak of her again, and again, who to her heaven came so suddenly, leaving Love grieving here on earth with me… To the high heaven she has gone, up to the realm where Angels dwell in peace, she lives with them now. To this world she bade farewell. Tis no degree of cold on her has won, nor of such heat as makes all others cease: it only was her goodness, great appeal. So did her shining humbleness excel, it passed the heavens with such wondrous worth, it moved to marvel the eternal Sire, so that a sweet desire pricked Him to call such worthiness from earth, and made her to himself go from down here: for when He saw this life of suffering had not been made for such a gentle thing… Her gentle spirit, full of gentle grace, at last departed from her beauteous frame, and chose in glory its most worthy home. He who weeps not, {Mark David Breakiron} when talking of her trace, harbors a heart of wickedness and shame, to which no kindly spirits ever shall come. No mind, if heart is wicked, may so roam as to imagine in the least her lot: therefore no grief or weeping will transpire. But sadness and desire of tears and sighs and death, and every thought that fails to comfort for a loss of immense, conquer those souls that even once recall the thing she was, now taken from us all… Ahhhhhhhhh so much anguish nearly halts my breath when the least thought to this comes in my grievous mind brings back the one who split my heart in me; and oftentimes, when thinking of her death the color from my face fades utterly. And when the imagining is sharp in me, from everywhere I’m struck by such dismay that at the ache I feel right then I start to cry, and so distraught it grows. For it is then that I am alone in every crowd. I wander in my tears…. For a face that looks like mine.

woman, alone sits on her unmade bed and ponders her self worth sad music in the background and a familiar rainbow rug on the floor are blurred with watery thoughts she knew last night how much her soul was worth and for now it lies between rumpled sheets she knows it now, the unspoken cost, but like sentimental baubles, no one recognizes the value of the woman except the woman

I never did find the reason, the reason I couldn’t love you, love you with all of my heart share everything I was, or would be. I always looked the other way when you came too close. Scared of things I didn’t know. Afraid of the way things might turn out. I never let fate take its course, I always fought against it. Not wanting to embrace reality for what it was, I let you go. Those times spent wondering, wondering how to get away, I should have listened to every word you said. I should have stayed longer, longer in your arms, longer in your presence, and forever in your warmth. I should have walked with you on those chilly, starry nights. Held your hand and shared dreams when you showed the courage to ask. Now, sitting here alone, still searching for a reason, the only way I can have you is in my memories. Struggling through the flow of tears, I realize with my entire soul and all the feelings I subdued so well, I should have let you love me.

Empty canvas longing for smooth caress of brush, as dusty film gathers on surface. Vacant images secluded in time, as the thirst for expression grows with each perpetual day. I once dreamed of vibrant skies, books flapping their pages over subtle seas, playfully looping one another, as they race along surface. Guided to perfection with still hand, and gentle bristles. I was a magician, maker of miracles, bristled wand in hand, creating life and love in vivid tones of violets and hues. Am I nothing more than a sponge, panting and thirsting along desert sands, sere air withering my skin, almost like time dried inspiration. Ah yes, a sponge, dry and empty, exceeding the boundaries that didn’t exist, to frizzle beneath peering sun, withering to subtle tones of yesterday.

Strip away your relationships One by one Friend by friend by friend By lover by parent by child Until all that is left Is a broken soul Alone. Then, when you understand And only then Equipped with the necessary wisdom Are you at any kind of liberty To judge The desperate actions Of another. Please read my blog ~ Story of faith --- Thank you Petal