Sorry within sorrow that radiates an unprecedented trail of remorse that leaves this mark of disdain. As we speak words that echoes no meaning but only the sounds that portray this image we demonstrate. For words now are just figments of truth and perception. Sorry, I’m not sorry; overwhelmed by the actions displayed, as if it were just a play and your the leading role taking the stage. I’m not sorry for how I feel, I’m not sorry for my conceptual semantics. I’m not sorry for feeling I have to say sorry as the difference is I’m not on stage. Many appear to be living in this spotlight, their own little world as we all try to fit in this world leaving an unprecedented trail of remorse yet again and I’m weary of words now as now we hear what we want to hear and sorrow radiates the perception of the real truth.
A man who loves unconditionally, who never judges or scorns. A man who wakes up proud knowing his children are who they are, supporting their decisions regardless of what he deems fit for his love will guide their ways, his life will empower his children with the knowledge and love that will enlighten his children’s eyes. For he is their father,mentor friend for as time goes by his life will reflect his children lives as fatherhood becomes a circle of time….
My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me -Jim Valvano
We couldn’t extinguish the fire so we engulfed it with our sins. Incinerating all that was lost, only to inhale the smoke that suffocated us within.The air drew cold but the flames burned our eyes.We could no longer see around us, only the stench of sin laid upon our burning flesh, as our bodies became more alive. Our temple was doomed underneath the ashes that burned out of control, slaughtered and ravaged, a shattering of all forms. For the temple was the only place we amassed, it was the altar to our defiled and befouled bones,our sanctuary, our beauty, our reality we had. We frolicked along the alter, gave homage to our sins, an adulation of sorts an apotheosis we began.Immortals we were as we taunted fleeting eyes.Our mortality ran short, the carnage of flames raptured our bones, scorched flesh consumed by what was left of the Eden we had made, for only to deluge our sins upon the mortal fools as we danced upon their irrelevant graves…
Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs- William Shakespeare
For every moment we breathe it could be our last. We never realize how close death is until it crosses our path. As there is no control in what we plan and what we dream of from the past. An affliction emerges and anger turns into disdain as shadows follow those whom can’t let go of the pain. Its not a fairytale as we all close our eyes only rewinding the past to relive those moments left behind. The shadows leave a mark for it can only follow what we desire and want, for they won’t know the difference of dark and light for they are attached to you until you let go and let them see the light. As easy as it seems as death has a way of peeping in, for we all know the day that the shadow will make its way, reflecting our own light onto a passage that we can see so bright. Don’t be frightened by the shadows that surround us as they guide us unto another life, as they are hidden only to protect the life we have left as we join them in this journey to protect the ones that don’t see the shadows but see their guardians of light.
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” – Mark Twain
Teeter totter was filled with unseen mass for the balances were never balanced and the mass was left unmanned. Teeter totter arose from the depths below for the highest height was just below the low. A constant shift of balance a continual road that paved the road for the teeter totter always shifted and could never be alone. Equity was bias as they shuffled down the road, in hopes to find harmony, in hopes to find the balanced paved way home. They heard the fears that spoke around the teeter totters jaw as no words could leave any noise and their eyes only left a presence of a radiant knight. The dimmed night sky paved a way to the harmonious balanced life for the teeter totter broke and finally the sound of their voices echoed thru to the end of the road they called home.
“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere – on water and land.” – Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Broken into pieces, shattered into a myriad of infinite fragments that left imprints that can’t be replaced. The bond that held the glue together became undone and so did his love. The numbing echo of opaque pieces left forsaken were for her to fix as she fixed most of the myriad of infinite pieces that laid across her open wounds, the salt never numbed the pain but the pieces were left untouched only to be restored by an unimaginable silhouette that shadowed the unforeseen magnificence of her life and of her love.
James Jebusa Shannon- The Sevres Vase
“When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one’s self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.” – Oscar Wilde