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Old 04-03-2008, 03:19 PM   #1 (permalink)
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[MERIT]'s Avatar
Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Missouri, USA
Posts: 4,811
Default 3 old poems

I wrote these during a relationship that at the time really brought out the best in me (or so I thought at the time).

There come times in our lives that try our will. They test our spirit. But it is the true test of our own spirit, as to how we face our fears. Conquer our demons. We have ever too often grown accustomed to accepting the short end of the stick, as if we deserve less than our fullest desires. We must not lose hope. We must believe in something higher, something bigger than us all. An all-loving blanket that surrounds and encompasses our hearts, and our souls. This love will be the bond between us all, brothers as brothers, sisters as sisters. This love will be the common denominator of our happiness. And this love between our fellow man will be the love that never fails.

At the edge of reason lies the reason for such discontent. Sitting amongst the sheltered midground of conformity is the norm. The edge is no longer the extremity of freedom. Happiness is dependant upon breaking barriers, going beyond limitations. The soul is not satisfied with the mundane ways of life, but instead craves the joy and happiness of another kindred spirit. Loneliness is the savage punishment of the unwilling, those unwilling to take risks, or give chances. The face of our fate is concealed behind the layers of our free will, hidden forever, until we decide to free him through the use of decision. Decisions, whether good or bad, bear on our souls with the weight of a thousand boulders. That weight is necessary in keeping us grounded, no longer flying away into the unknown. Obliviousness is heinous, freedom is peace.

Standing amidst the forest of tranquility is a single, solitary tree. It reveres in its own solitude, without anxiousness, nor want. It bears the fruit of its loins, sweet offspring with seeds of peace, and nectar of harmony. These berries that grow from the tree are scattered amongst the branches and the foliage. The dense leaves do their best to hide this fruit from those who pass by, forever leaving them in search of such elusive love and happiness. While many have tried, few have ever climbed to the top of this tree. Most are content with reaching the first or second branch, while others strive to reach the top, and yet others choose not to climb at all. I have seen this illustrious tree. I have lain my crying eyes upon it every night, amidst every dream, in every thought, with every breath. Such a journey to the top is not possible by one's self alone, but requires the helping hand of another with whom you have a common goal. We must work together, giving a boost here and there, a leg up to those who strive as we strive. Only when we work in unison towards this common goal will it be within our grasp. So I offer up to you myself. Use me as a stepping stone. I will hold you up when you can climb no longer. I will be your helping hand, your second wind. My happiness cannot exist without the happiness of your heart, and the tranquility of your soul. I am as I am. Take me as so.

the last one always makes me cry.
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