Drowning in an ocean,
The thoughts flooding.
Filling me up, yet leaving empty,
A paradox this all has been.
The sense of filling, leaving me hollow,
I was lost.
Lost beyond measure,
Waiting to be found.
For once I needed help,
My silence a loud scream,
But failed to be heard.
The scream was deafening,
But it fell in dead ears.
I waited, longed even,
With a heavy heart,
I rose up, again!
No one was gonna come to rescue,
I had to save myself.
With new determination I lunged,
Standing erect,myself a new sign of hope.
For all those hopeless people out there,
I am my own savior!
A poem a wonderful friend had written so I thought I’d share it. Because I think alot of people out there need to know that sometimes you need to be your own hero. 🙂 No matter how much your scary thoughts, strangle your mind. Or when your heart is stuck in quick sand of emotions. You must rise, and be your own savior. Always believe in hope.
(Spread hope generously ❤ but never foolishly, 😛 because hope is medicine. 😀 When taken as prescribed never hurts. But otherwise has side effects. 😦 )
Like a mustang struggling to escape,
a merciless forest fire,
on a dark moonless night.
She tried to salvage,
Fragments of hope,
as fear,fury and fire followed.
This was a post for DAY 3. If you’d like to participate in the ‘October Writing Challenge’ check out the words here.
My first time participating for the..
So this months theme for TTT is
So here I am trying to write something related to the topic. XD Jade,don’t kill me if it’s too bad.
If you ask me what inspiration my is.My answer would probably a mess.Like this:
I don’t know.I guess my inspiration can be anything! *o* Sometimes it’s just I try to hold on to the words rushing in my head, so maybe my inspiration are my thoughts? Sometimes I just look at a pic or a scene I if I feel the scene or ponder about,I just try to put it into words. :’) At times someones actions that inspire me.
Maybe it’s the way that the grains of sand stick to my feet or how the blue sky makes we want to take flight.Perhaps it’s the way how the world is so broken,dry and scary yet we have strings of thoughts,pocket of good deed and a big sack of hope that still keeps the earth intact.That sometimes inspires me..?
I’m still figuring out the answer.All I know for now is that my answer cannot ever possibly be completed.Traveling through time we find ourselves in different paths,accompanied by various thoughts,emotions.experiences,tales and the list goes on.One thing is confirmed,we are never satisfied thus is the case with my reply to ‘What is your inspiration?’
Inspiration can be anything and everything.You show me high beautiful mountains and I may not be inspired at all. The way I noticed the dust beneath my feet.Trust me I can end up being inspired and would write about my thoughts! 🙂
Once a friend of mine had a display picture of a heart but it seemed very unique.At first I liked it and told myself to compliment.The next time I saw the picture,I changed my mind.That dp was beautiful but when I started connecting my thoughts and noticed the other side of it,it didn’t look good anymore.Thus,I ended up writing about it. 🙄
I wish I could show you the picture but I can’t seem to find it. Anyway,here goes…
Hope in a human being;no word can wholly describe it,verily.The intensity of hope in a humans heart differs,always.Hope has always been unique,pleasing and undoubtedly phenomenal.
Like snowflakes,perhaps.The delicate creativity withheld in them is immeasurable.
Similar to hope,they reside in different parts,different lands and also in different hearts.
The sight if when all those inexplicable and unexampled little figures,descend from the chilled sky is absolutely,to die for.They have something to show the world.They display natures magic.
Similarly,hope shows the world the enchantment of tiny variety of emotions growing into a lovely form with rare and beautiful endings.
The miserable fact is the fact is that the snowflakes don’t always fall in every place or every land.Hope isn’t always born,doesn’t always stay.It does not occupy every heart,every day.At times all a human heart has is the four chambers of vacuum.
The melancholy of this tale doesn’t end here.
Whats more depressing is to see those beauties be melted by warmth.
It is even more painful to let a hearts hope burn away or more specifically evaporate into the air.Leaving behind the atmosphere in the heart dark,dull and worst of all hopeless.
There is not one reason,but more,for why hope vanishes.
It could be a seemingly logical comment,thrown up like spears that are aimed straight for the heart,to shatter it to bits!Or it could be a smirk on a stern face that indicated that the worst is yet to happen.Or even one of those thoughts that make you feel worthless!
The very important thing to keep in your mind is that just like snow flakes hope will return and that itself is hope.A spark hope that lights the heart.similar to the first snowflake you see in winter. ❤
~INKY (I’m back to posting on Saturdays.)
~This my 50th post. Yay! 😎 ~
If my thoughts are like the river,
Then it is a river that will forever flow!
If my thoughts are like the grains in an hour glass,
Then it is in that hour glass that is never satisfied!
If my thoughts are like a balloon,
Then they are that which keeps getting bigger and bigger as time passes!
If my thoughts are like the thunder,
Then they are that thunder that keeps on roaring!
If my thoughts are like the tree,
Then they are that tree that keeps growing!
If my thoughts are like the pen,
Then they are that pen that never stops writing!
If my thoughts are like the rose,
Then they are that rose that will never lose its scent!
If my thoughts are like the numbers,
Then they are the numbers on the path of infinity!
If my thoughts are really all mine,
Then they will perish when I die and I will die when HE wills!
The wind was howling.
It kept howling.
Insisting,I take flight.
My storm of sighs.
Uttering of the words ‘If only I could.’
Put it to silence.
-Accidentally inked on 3/1/16 2:58 pm
They say writing is therapeutic, perhaps not for everyone. Some may express feelings by painting them out, some share their tales verbally, others gulp them in.That can be dangerous because little by little the misery, guilt and unknown emotions will eat you away. So letting is out is like breathing out carbon dioxide it’s healthy for the mind and heart.
That ink that the paper absorbs are thousands of tiny drops each filled with imponderable forces, inexplicable emotions with a tale to tell, an advice to give and some reality to expose.
The pen, ink and paper heal the heart; tame the mind by absorbing some of the sorrow and lightning the burden of the soul. Thus giving the brain a wider canvas to paint on and setting the heart free soaring between the lines, above and below the pages all which are blank, waiting to be majestically designed by what the heart wills for.
Though not all is what it seems like. Some are addicted to pain, obsessed with misery and adore the feeling of despair. They don’t trust paper and let that habit of theirs lead them to an end that they yearn for.Death approaches and content they feel with their story ending this way for they assumed no other way, remained.
Assumptions, merely on assumptions they build up their life on. Little did they know that those assumptions were never their companion but always the enemy in disguise waiting to sabotage. If only they had somehow let go, let the antidote heal the blood furiously rushing to their heart. Pulled on to the rope of hope or at least not drowned in the self-created ocean of sadness.
To be sabotaged, or not to be, is the question!
Let a clear mind and an awoken heart, let you decide.
Date- 27/9/15 Time-7:35 pm