poet talks plenty

sadness is a choice.

we like to think it's not.

some vague oppression.

waves of rot.

but really,

it's a knot of our own willing.

we are still alot.

there's depths beyond the deeps of sorrow,

longings never reached,

a swallowing of all that joy can bring.

on our own.

we are endless,

all the lost and self-defenseless.

all the walls you wither in win

are infinite prisons sentenced.

break the limits.

you can see it in your dreams.

you feel it when the inner speaks of

more than endings. stop pretending.

you're not evil,

just in need of mending.

take the time to learn to love

not others, or the rush they bring,

not mother's love, or brother's blood,

but search within.

unseen.

you aren't what you think.

nor feel, or dream, just moments.

you are not just what you know, it's

just a figment.

just ephemeral.

you're this instant.

you are now,

your body knows it.

all the soul, the heart, and decomposing flesh

which wished to shed the violence

of the time we live in.

never finished.

take your fangs out of your tongue.

give say to what you love,

break chains and let the spirit flutter up,

and fill it.

and a black hole, I

imbibe from a chalice

named Liberation.

My ghost tears apart

at the struggle but the taste

is enough to rust

the darkest days.

I am a verse

of secular holiness

and the absurd

rebels against me.

I watch from the edges of eternity,

a silent witness to your stumbling steps,

your heart full of questions

as you navigate the labyrinth

of your uncharted existence.

she never lets anything rest

always bringing up things again

tears unshed in my eyes

arms trembling

i beg her not to say anything

but of course she doesn't let it go

even when she's buried

i'm afraid she'd dig through her grave

Fire, fire, burning bright, weaving shadows from the night, how did mortal man learn to unlock the secrets within you? 

From what darker, distant past did we emerge, free at last, once we'd learned to tame then free thy flaming volatility? 

For the magic of your light gave us ways to fend off night, steal back daylight, and explore lands unseen by man before. 

Fire, with your powers near, we outshone our darkest fears so that, in caves, we could start making works of timeless art.

What hand or eye or mind was first moved to quench deeper, inner thirsts; to–with pigment, coal, or chalk– imbue their Self upon the rock? So, with these powers over dark, one last thought was left to spark, as we, through art, learned to see our true immortality.

Eugh

Wind Breaker chapter 145 coloring | Sakura vs Yamato

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art made by satoru nii, coloring made by me

Tw: Ryo_Zeroswim