Haunted by the dead and buried; acceptance denied due to the absence of closure. Grasping at the tattered hem of a garment; faith-seeking answers. Time dictates the pace of suffering; peace is a forced state of mind.
Tag: peace
Placid
A gentle breeze becomes a bellowing wind. The air is dirty and difficult to breathe. Dust devils dancing within the calamity. I am standing still.
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Restoration
We were wandering;
Journey we made, complicated.
New path, simplified.
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Inside
Knowledge forsaken
Early morning pondering
Faith… hope… charity
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Bittersweet
The sunrise is the moment for a man to ponder the effect of past events on the present moment. Dressed in dark colors inconspicuous; the wardrobe mimics the morning sky. He places a finger to his mind, directing his thoughts to the decision that fate happens for a reason. A reason requiring keen insight from the divine to decipher its riddle disguised as purpose.
He stares towards the perennial peak of a hill and recalls the feeling of disappointment at his failed ambitions dictated by the imposing expectations implanted within his childhood. His perception is now a broken compass; misguiding his spirit through the fog of unsolicited opinions. Those countless decisions are wavering within the gust of a thousand voices. Today becomes the younger twin of Yesterday both determined to clone their DNA upon Tomorrow. Alone with his thoughts as his misery is unable to find the company it seeks.
The endless pursuit towards a woman’s affection he has never known yet forever seen. He finds delight for this notion of interest with an acceptable persona that is his own; relieved because his physical appearance is unimportant compared to that which resides inside his blemished shell; to behold love within the unseen.
He shares his time revealing the secrets of his soul. Expressing emotional depth, no one else could comprehend. His heart bleeds poetic verses; transfusions along the emptiness of existence with companionship. The bittersweet taste of love confuses his senses getting his emotions twisted. Souls entwined on the fragile plain of romance.
Time grants him an opportunity to propose commitment that he recognizes and she fails to understand. Her past she could not deny. He offered sacred vows upon a bed of enchantment. She could not accept. He offered his life in exchange for her honor. She left with words unspoken.
Misty skies dim the sunlight and darken his eyes. His heart now absent from his body. His grief pours like torrential rain. He trails his fingers along the silhouette her absence provided. The days become ordinary while containing a choice to reconsider.
This reconsideration led him to grieve the injustice shackled upon humanity. He grips war by the handle and strikes with irresistible force upon the once immovable object of hate. He finds himself guilty of hostilities for the sake of peace. There is no trial for his crimes of war.
He seeks admonishment for his guilt; left with a confession upon his heart. His apologies fall silently into the void neither heard nor acknowledged. A single dove’s feather falls upon him carrying a single drop of spilled blood. He tattoos a mark of shame on his heart.
He watches the flames of those he loved extinguished and becoming vapors in the wind. The unexpected storm carries away the souls of so many he loved, knew and connected. Standing at the sites of engraved eulogies, he grieves; not just for the loss but also for the opportunities missed. Loneliness conceived from the womb of absence. The act of kindness is a dying breed. He grieves until the end of the falling rain.
He stares into the abyss of abandoned memories; seeing her eyes staring back at him stirring the pain in his soul. Spirits of the past ascend from the void singing songs of antagonism; recalling the moments that provoke his anger and call his anguish.
He decides to satisfy the spirits of torment with a sacrifice. Reaching within the thorns of his body, he removes his pride and lays it upon an altar of forgiveness; letting go of all that he was and silencing his demons.
He studies the recollections kept within his cerebral journal; appraising the significance. Always learning, continuously evaluating and never mastering. He lies down upon his experiences, watching day fade slowly towards night. He receives a gentle kiss from the lips of Serenity as his soul nestles in the bosom of Peace.
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Starting Over
Another night reflecting…
Holding an old pen to calm these
Disgruntled thoughts, spilling on the
Filthy paper; awakened by the emptiness.
Remembering our quiet moments, especially
The casual discussions at midnight about
Nothing and the rain.
Missing the silence
Interrupted by our whispers and the secrets
We kept from the rest of the world.
Crumpling this memoir of disarray; set
Beneath a new lighter to burn
Within the flame.
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The Walking Dead: Just Survive Somehow [JSS]
The second episode of The Walking Dead Season 6 titled, “JSS” went from lazy Sunday to World War Three in 60 seconds. We witnessed the dichotomy of survival in an insane world. Two opposing arguments; in a fight, two opposing weapons. There is a staff and there is a gun, which do you choose? “Good people are the first to die,” that is why you “can’t take chances anymore.” You can put up walls but they won’t keep out the danger forever.
Carol Peletier, a woman who spent most of her life living in fear. A woman requiring the protection of stronger people for her own survival. Situations forced her to put aside compassion allowing the strength of conviction to guide her belief; the elimination of danger to keep her family safe. From her time in the prison community killing sick/infected members, having Lizzie “look at the flowers”, to single-handedly rescuing Rick and the others at Terminus, Carol has evolved into a lethal bad-ass. In Alexandria, she deliberately appears weak as a means to gain the trust of the community while assessing their strengths and opportunities. She is the “den-mother” that will bake you cookies and later take out a horde of walkers, while you’re sleeping.
Morgan Jones, after losing his wife in the zombie-apocalypse, did everything he could to keep his son alive. It wasn’t enough as his son was killed by his dead wife. He became mentally unstable with a fear of connecting with people. He was a man unable to let go of the past. At some point, Morgan adopts the philosophy similar to a Shaolin priest. Choosing the way of non-lethal confrontations. His encounter with two members of The Wolves and letting them live demonstrating that even with your life on the line, you don’t have to kill.
The Alexandria Safe Zone was brutally attacked by The Wolves. Carol and Morgan defended the community as polar opposites. Morgan believing the attackers could be subdued without killing them and Carol shooting first without question. Both methods have repercussions. “It’s an insane world.” How far can we delve into our narrow perspective of right and wrong and not lose our hold on reality?
Two people debating on the battlefield became sullied in the blood of insanity. Traveling toward a place where there is no return.
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Hiatus
Wishing, for one night,
The motion of time
Would simply hold still.
Write Now and Later 
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