The Ruins

The wind wrestles the waves, rocking a lonely ship.
The tide created, will never touch the moon.

As sly as silk the wind dove under,
All her pressures captured below land.

She fought to become an anchor
To the only ship accompanying devoted, swimming waters.

Two forces, which battle and serge.

Silk, like ribbon will tie their hands. Interlocking.
Nature beats, arising a storm.

We'll come in sheets.

But chains rust the defeat.

Roots

The plane preparing for take-off,
Fell to the ground.

The girl waiting for the boy,
Walked away.

The clock flying by,
Stopped working.

The world eternally spinning,
Ended.

The blood pulsing through your veins,
Came to being still.

The loss in your heart,
Disappeared.

The love of your life,
left.

But the roots that clench into the ground.
Hold you together.
Piece by piece and branch by branch.

You will become a forest, a battle,
endless growing, reaching to the height of a drifting cloud.

Trees that are soliders
Fighting, pulsing
Roots digging, deeper. Into the ground.
And you will never move, and you will never become lost.

Burnt Out

The frost kicks in, and kills the heat.
Every ability starts to feel dysfunctional.
Even the ability to breathe.

Everything real starts to feel like a lie, and I wonder if it's me included.

Every feeling starts to feel like nothing.

And nothing is alive anymore.
I say sometimes that I wish I could stop existing.
Stop sleeping.
Stop.

Battling the same situation, the same questions in unending circles
takes the power out of you.

And like a light, I have burnt out.