Loss
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Grief clings. Or is there something that we are clinging to, to keep grief alive? Perhaps it is something else other than even that. It might not be that we keep grief alive, while denial is what we first express upon hearing that we who loved has died. It might be that we keep hope
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“We might tell ourselves that to do what must be done, for another, is a testament to our love for them. In that, we are compensating. For what? For potential loss, of ourselves, of our identity. We hurl ourselves into another to encompass them as we often embrace them, buried under entwined thoughts. In all
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Once I saw what gleamed, untilI only saw what dreamed. One darkrealization, never before rubbed,smeared, left under curtains; there, as a disguise to the daylightwith the misery.He wanted his chains broken,his mask torn off,left with the bandages, his skin,the nakedness of honesty. He dreamed under a glaze,a stir from a heavy heart.He hoped during the
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Still youKeep running the tears that toMankind’s hurts, in the war for bloodied dirtFollow wails, will lead to worse.Leave sorrow as dewTo make the mourning as morningWithout the sleep of the sunStaying where we are entering. While love is warm, apartFrom faces scarred,We keep the bullets entering hearts – We send forth showers, towards eyes
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“It is grief that stains the living soul. It is not peace with the bereaved, since it is peace with the dead. Those who grieve are in pain, because they wish to be with the dead. To recover from this, reverse the wish to be with them, to the understanding that the dead live on
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“No man will cry over sentimentality. He will, however, weep when the boulder during the present, buries him further into the earth. The guilt, harbored upon his shoulders, docked as a ship within his heart, overloaded with the cargo of self-disappointment, offers him the curse of blame for what he could not protect. Competence is,
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“People’s lives don’t end when they die. It ends when they lose their faith. Will it be death while still holding strong to faith, or a long life gained by renouncing it?” – Hanzo of the Salamander (Naruto)
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The funeral strikes the hour,As I waltz pastThe raining petalsThat do not,RepeatingDo notBurn, nor tearApart, at their solaced shower. Her hair falls back, lifeless,Never againTo be brushed by the hand,My hand,Facing the floor,Soaring towards the naked shoreWhere eyes can glimpse my stroking tears. I had loved,Meagerly loved,Simply lovedThe rose gathered amongstAll these forgotten petals.Her face,A
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“How many tears could a man have concealed upon a time when he was hungry, when to soon realize upon his loss that he was only thirsty? A man lives, to drink in what he never felt.” – Modern Romanticism
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Breaking between syllables, this painter is lost in his wreckage. A void for discovery’s sake, to see a face that looks back to his pain, to the absence. As this memory unites with himself, a hollowness begins to become so apparent in its torture. Just a single pang of loneliness, doubt, and uncertainty to keep
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“One should name themselves as weak, and forever such, when they dislike the idea of attaching themselves to a non-material thing, being a person. For if they were to lose that person, it could not be seen as expendable. It would be seen as forever lost. True strength is only ever bred when one can
Modern Romanticism 