Winter and Beyond, Emma [read books for money .TXT] 📗

An Isolated Winter

Winter. The unbearable cold.
All out of stars, nothing but
Darkness.
Bitter sweet winter with no sense of remorse
Left just utter
Darkness outside staring at me like a big gaping hole.

Winter, nature’s choice.
Nature’s subtle way of taking away all that’s good in the world and replacing it with darkness.

The old man sees nothing but the great white blanket covering the earth and
Winter’s isolation that draws many parallels to what
We call life.
Darkness just total darkness and despair.
The isolation of winter is enough to kill this man inside
But as winter has been and gone
The cycle moves on
The isolation of winter at its best
Tomorrow will be the day we see the light of day.


Labour

An empty room with nothing but a solitude woman
Screaming
Then a cry
The baby arrives
Its tiny head appears with the wail that could break the world
And its silence.
Its tiny body like a doll almost,
Gentle and fragile
Reflecting what is opposite to this world.
This innocence that seems some what comforting but cannot last.
Sadly, nothing can.


UNTITLED

Change. The inevitable hatred of man kind but sometimes the smile to our day.
Man kind. people hate change for the very reason that it breaks routine.
Routine. Who needs it?
It brings Comfort .
Comfort, bringing joy but sometimes hopelessness and boredom.
Boredom. The classic day with not a trace to do but stimulatenaously combust deep inside and time waste.
Time waste. Something to do when we don’t want to do something else.
For every positive seems a negative and every negative a positive.
Or so we are lead to believe.




Deep in the Mournes

Deep in the mournes far in the trees
A little whisper is calling to thee
Deep in the mournes as the sun goes down the little whisper calls to thee
Oh my how it really frightens me

Listen to the wind and the sound of the trees
The little whisper is calling to me
The sun goes down there is no light
Not even a single person in sight

A white shadow emerges from behind a tree
Oh dear god is the whisperer coming for me
I run like mad till I can run no more
This really scares me to the core
Dead end and the whisperer gets louder
What shall I do?

I turn around theres no one there
I can only sit and stare
Deep in the mournes I run I’m free
Maybe one day you will see

The silence returns no one’s insight
It really gave me quite a fright
Trees swaying peace at last
But how long can this silence last?


The Long and Winding Road

The long and winding road
Often feels like it will never end
Yet to reach the end we must start at the beginning
And travel through the road.

The road has many bends and obstacles standing in the way
At first I give up
Hoping these obstacles will disappear
The sad realism is that yes they might disappear
But there will always be something
The winding road is never empty and plain sailing

I start from the beginning and work my way through
Till I reach the end
And a conclusion I am happy with.


All Out of Stars

All out of stars, nothing but
Darkness. Darkness outside stares at me like a big gaping hole
Lights in the distance yet so far away
A glimmer of hope that is still not reachable
Or perhaps cannot be seen

Darkness. Just total darkness
Yet on goes a street lamp
An essence of normality creeping back in
Silence and all is dim
Ready for the night to takes its toll
A great black blanket covering the earth
All out of stars, the darkness takes us all.

Looking out the cosy fires and couples huddled by the tv
Ready for the cold dark night to take its toll on the world.
Silence and the world stops still. The moon rises and we have life.



A Huge Gaping Hole


A huge gaping hole
With no end
The darkness deep inside that cuts through the soul.
The hole that never seems to end
And when there seems like theres an end there’s a blockage.
A blockage that means we have to start all over again or find another way.
The gaping hole gets darker with each passing day
But to find an end we have to find a way
To realise that every hole has a beginning and an end
Although it often seems so far away.



Woman on the edge

A woman on the edge is often someone who is not quite dead yet not quite alive
She slowly begins to look like a zombie passing in the night
Her delicate face while remaining normal
Holds the weight of her struggles behind a somewhat cheesy grin

A woman on the edge feels trapped in her own struggles and worries
Almost ready to explode
Often these women feel alone and vulnerable
Waiting on their attacker which is this mighty curse that made them feel this way
Be it the stress of family life, other personal problems or perhaps underlying issues that need addressed
A woman on the edge of explosion wants and needs help
Yet she will undoubtedly never ask for it
If and when she does, be shocked
But also see the seriousness of the issue
She without realising it is facing the fact that she can’t do this on her own
And she needs help to come back on the pavement once more

On the edge and off again
A woman’s struggle to survive


You

You! You with your big cheesy grin
The non understandable smile that pulls the pain deep inside
Deep to the core
Oh how you tortured me

You saw my good qualities and used them. Used them to your advantage.
So much that I despised you yet I couldn’t walk away from you.
You picked the low point in my life and dragged in more crap.
You! Oh how could you!

Summer through winter and back again
Oh the pain of loosing someone so close but the thought of loosing you was hard to bear
I had to wash you, wash you deep from my mind
So that I wouldn’t die inside
Oh how could you do this!


You suffocated me, you made my life like living turmoil
Deep in the shadows of guilt
Oh how I had to get rid of you
I promised I wouldn’t dispose of no one like rubbish
but I had no choice
I eventually disposed of you
Out of my life for goo
Well so I hoped

The pain you caused, the grief and guilt I felt
Oh I had to wash you

Oh you do not know you do not know the pain you caused me so
Nor will I ever dare to tell you so


Love


Love is like a river
Its flow is somewhat unpredictable
Yet fascinating
How can one tell the true path that love will take without experiencing every moment of it?
Follow your heart and you will see that perhaps this love is meant to be


Its poison sinks you in
With a somewhat mysterious grin
Perhaps it’s the strange flow and uncertainty
That makes love what it is
That tenderness and happiness
That makes the heart grow fonder

The sharpness of the river bend is like a blade
Tearing the heart in two
But it is these bends that makes us stronger and
Makes us see that not all love is love
But rather a sense of uncertainty

Love is like a river
Unpredictable almost
But then what is???

Publication Date: 12-26-2009

All Rights Reserved