There Is Hope We lament, Hoping for a listener. Can anybody hear our cries of pain? Looking into a blue void that is the sea From this precipice of hope, We pray that our freest will not cave in And send us flailing to the waves. You are pushed. The sea awaits your arrival, Arms open wide. Lose yourself in a cold, dark abyss, Flounder beneath the murky surface Till when the time comes You break out and Gasp for long lost air. As your broken lungs sigh, The sea salt whispers, "there is hope".
Slow Down Sit, slow down. Think. Is this worth it? Anger, The blood-red broth, Bubbling within, frothing, Waiting to spill from a mouth, Waiting to roll off a tongue, And poison the next. Clammy hands, itching to injure, To strangle, To mangle, Slow down. Jealousy, Emerald shades of spite slither Through the body. Temptation tugs at the hands Urging death, anticipating fury. A shiver of revenge, A beg for ruin, Slow down. Isolation, A hued world Stretches out before you, Rolling in ecstasy at your feet, Yet monochromatic landscapes Are all you see. A fleeting dream of company Disturbs your sleep. You wake. Slow down. Sickly bright tones of short-lived happiness Dance in a flurry of colored madness around you. A hurricane of joy threatens To throw you over. A tidal wave of pleasure takes over All but you. Resentment. Slow down.