Unspoken Love
Fade. Reflection. Rediscover. Rebuild. Rebirth.
WHO ARE YOU?
What would you go back and change if you could change anything?
What mistakes would you take back and correct?
Which would you keep and live with?
How far would you make it with such changes?
You would know very little, all you could grasp for is the unknown.
Time is a unique thing, isn't it?
Choices are made and feelings are felt that gravitate our hearts and souls to make decisions within such moments in time.
We crave life.
We crave liberation.
And like the stars in the deep night sky, our souls will find that liberation.
We will find such despite the choices made.
Life and death are both pondered within the mind, yet I still can't take my eyes off the night sky.
I find only peace there.
The silence meets me there, peace follows behind sweeping me off of my feet.
My soul will always gravitate towards the stars when life is too noisy. This is all I can do when I am consumed by the chaos of life.
About the Creator
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The Lost Ones
"We just wanted to be heroes!" the lost ones shouted. "We didn't think we'd ever turn out to be villians of destruction," they weeped. "We never thought in order to become the hero, you had to sacrifice your soul," they shouted breathing heavily. "We were promised redemption and a paradise to call home," one said while sniffling. "It is but truth, in order to conquer darkness you have to sacrifice a bit of light each time," the wind whispered sweetly. "If you do only what is right, not to please so don't boast about the genuine things you faked to put your heart into when you were treading on your evil ways the entire time," the wind whispered while getting stronger and angry. "We were born to sacrifice our entire lives, why must we ever boast?" The lost ones said confidently knowing their morals. "So tell me, what is it you truly desire?" The wind asked. "Eternal life in a paradise beyond our imagination," "And so it shall be," the wind said and calmed entirely. Vanished like we will someday, maybe tomorrow, or in an hour, or in three weeks. None are promised eternity in filthy temporary flesh. Nothing at all will carry evil with, for if you're not pure, you're not mine.
By Alexis Gibson2 years ago in Poets
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