Superficial light, I believed you were true.
I was even sure it was you who shone through.
My spirits were lifted, hope was acquired
Dreams were envisioned, my heart was inspired.
But when night descended, upon my tiring spirit.
You fell into shadows, and luminance was lifted.
You were a falseness, a snake, a mask to eclipse.
Fiction placed craftily on the cusp of darkness.
©Elizabeth Dianne Allee
It’s raining in the sky,
No hopes of touching ground.
Virga in the valley,
Sight without sound.
Beautiful, mysterious darkness,
A mass collection of gray.
Is there a longing to to connect,
Or a desire to stay away?
Virga in the valley,
I see beginning, and I see end.
It’s raining in the sky ,
Strands of water, limited.
Pain cuts deep.
Past the surface.
Through bone and flesh.
What happens next…
The lies I once believed,
The whispers in my ears.
The fear born deep within,
Accepting as truth, what I would hear.
Following the insidious leadings,
Into the realm of self destruction.
Smothered by a heavy darkness,
To which I’d helplessly succumb.
Now that power has faded.
Lies replaced with God’s truth.
Fear is buffered within me,
By a shield of faith I lift and use.
I can resist the temptation, when hurt,
Which once locked me in chains.
Tonight I did not drink or use,
Only God could make that change…
Drowning within her four walls,
Soaked in self made torment.
Submerged in agony,
Little fight left.
Returning to the dark places,
Her mind draws her to.
Surrendering in error,
To the things she once knew.
Perhaps her hurt will all drift away,
Upon gentle waves of continuity.
Perhaps her eyes will open,
And this will have been, but a dream.
Or maybe she’ll drown,
Within her four walls.
Eyes closed forever,
In her slow, steady fall…
This poem was written based on the following image: http://iosatel.smugmug.com/Gallery-2/i-DZN5h8F
(helps a lot to see the image with this poem.)
(Image from one of our very talented wordpress members: http://theobviousandhidden.com)
Peer into the dark
With your piercing solar stare
Cancel by merging
Yet the darkness is still there
Joined in harmonious union
Separate yet betrothed
The darkness seeks to extinguish the light
The light fights the darkness’ stronghold
The pain of yesterday,
Is now the pain of today.
Old hurts resurface,
Showing no mercy or restraint.
New tears are cried,
Off the drips of tears past.
Sorrows thought buried,
Exit their open tombs intact.
The peace of today,
Strives to shred yesterday’s pains.
God’s love buffers old hurts.
Stale are the tears which remain.
The sorrow is slower to leave.
Spilling and merging with my porous soul.
Painting dull colors upon my countenance,
Making movements surreal and slow.
It cruelly replays dark memories,
Blanketing thick shadows on my heart.
Actively consuming hope,
Tearing apart healing scars,
Mistakes made on destruction’s heels,
Existence defined only as “survive”.
I’m reminded again,
How it feels to be barely alive…
The face of evil
Kept under veil
As to lure
Hearts true, pure
Essence of foreboding
Dark as pitch
Cause of light eroding
Destroyer of peace
Nurturer of fear
Claws grip tight
Rip and tare
Of the soul
Which will be theirs
Without God’s hold
The darkness of a tilted world,
Overshadowed by majority light.
Dominating what’s down below,
But powerless over God’s might.
Ominous in appearance.
Thriving on intimidation.
A false portrayal of fear,
Your chosen mask of illusion.
pic: from my collection
Her umbrella settles upside down,
Open, but on the ground.
She grasps it by the firm handle,
And drags it slowly, letting it dangle.
The rain is falling in unforgiving buckets,
She’s drenched, cold and adapted to numbness.
Her steps are staggered, her head hangs low,
Dusk is upon her, and she’s all alone.
She feels a pull, a prompting from deep within.
To set the umbrella, upright again.
Slightly hesitant, she complies,
Lifting her head to join her open eyes.
Present once more in the moment,
Awareness restored, yet remaining reticent.
Her feet steadying, weakly standing tall,
Grasping the hand reaching out, preventing her fall.
The hand of God, powerful, and nostalgically familiar,
Love, warmth, and light surreal.
He calms the storm inside her soul,
Her upright umbrella; she’s alone no more.
If I’m to walk in the spirit,
I have to take steps in faith.
It’s easy to remain stagnant,
A slave to my self-centered ways.
I must be tuned in,
Listening for the still, quiet voice.
Which leads me on the narrow path,
And buffers against worldly noise.
While the spirit voice always speaks,
I sometimes attempt to ignore.
Hands on ears “la-la-la-la-la-la-la”,
A sad scene for sure.
At times, the darkness I embrace,
Pours acid on my soul.
Muffles the voice of the spirit,
Making it less recognizable.
I get caught up in self will,
Seeking only that which I desire.
I try to make my steps my own,
And often walk straight into fire.
To do the “next right thing”,
I must obey Holy Spirit promptings.
An obedience I cannot adhere to,
While entertaining enemy tauntings.