Cyrnanax

A shallow river feeding off into the depths Of a bottomless, endless ocean And a grain of sand blowing in the wind In the blazing sky of the great Sahara A single raindrop falling from the sky During the mightiest tempestuous hurricane Or perhaps a single breath of a life In a world filled with time unending Remember all of this and more Where are we to fit in, remember what we are Why should we start to live when there is so much To compete with, so little to try anew. Perhaps each living creature should keep in mind That the ocean started with a river, the desert, one grain. That storm, with one tiny drop, and life, with one b

To sleep, to rest and vanish completely, disappearing from a world that is entirely...what? This life means...what? Here on this land, we live, we hurt, we die. Some die faster, some give up... and still die. Skip the hurt, it's just a phase, something to be endured, or not. Who gets to decide what happens? Accidents happen, cars crash, people fall, and guns... human life extinguishing itself for what?  Money?  Pride? Pain. When we hurt, we hurt others, it's only fair. I didn't get what I want?  I'll take it from someone else, maybe two. Why?  Because I want it.  That's right, because I WANT it. My choice, my life, live and

Look to the Future, You'll find all new hopes Dreams untold, Just waiting to unfold Glance at the Past Learn from falls Stumble up And start running again This time you try, make sure it counts The world's after you But is it after anyone else? Look through the eyes of another of your kind Maybe you'll see... the truth, what it is to be me It's all gone wrong, all downhill from the start Looking, watching, waiting, searching for your chance. But now it's here, staring right in your eyes Hiding nothing searching glancing for the right time to move Yet you turn away, ignoring the calls Maybe you'll find something you only imagine

A woman descends a staircase, she is not there, she is not anywhere, except here, in the poem, and she will last as long as this poem lasts, a woman descending a staircase. The world has no time or use for poetry. It does not buy or sell, seize power. It merely lives within within the poet as he writes, within the reader as he reads, And on the page, for as long as the page lasts, eternally. The masters used to laugh, saying that art, poetry, illusion are not real. But art is real; it is more real than anything. Flowers are beautiful, but in days they fade, wither, grow stale, The poem, this poem, does not wither, fade, or g

Drowning in a river self-made As I dwell upon a future past, My hopes washed away in a current That fails to take me with it. Buried under a wealth of emotion Suffocating within the crushing walls Of my denial and curious guilt As I gasp out for a chance for life. Falling fast, through each mist opportunity Blinded by piercing wind, now I realize... I spread my wings and try once more To grasp at every silver lined cloud. Oblivious from ecstasy, I soar higher, And, like Icarus, get burned, this fire, Not of physical meaning, envelops my being, Filling me with a renewed chance for passion.

The solitary flower grown in the silent vale Reaches ever skyward, hoping to touch the stars Comforted by the serenity of the circle Where it has lived since time began. This vale, like all others before it, Was finally discovered by the races The flower spread its silken petals in hopes to Find the one that was meant to take care of it. This lone flower was an image of beauty, and Many came just to see this exquisite form. With leaves of jade and a straight stalk, the bloom Surpassed all imagination, opening only when one walked by, Revealing its soft azure petals and a nectar that no man has tasted. As time passed, the flower

Living a life drowned in worry as I grasp for stability ahead. Stretching forever, an ocean of red as my mind slowly crumbles to dust. Waking in bed, the nightmare dispersed to stand and stare at my own reflection... but I turn and glance again to see that I am always there judging myself again. Time crawls by as I dream once again of a chance at last on my island, stepping ahead, I wince at the shriek only to find that it came from within myself. Down I fall, and bleeding afresh, looking beneath, I know how I die. My dreams shattered are what had maimed me and crippled my life once again. Pooling deep and forever growing, no

The clouds above drift lazily by As silent thunder reigns the land. The ground quakes under my feet... As everyone walks calmly by. The storm rages, ice razing my face And the fierce cold numbs my blood. When my eyes glaze over... As they glance right through me. I fall to the ground, empty of life, As the blizzard overcomes me And covers my lifeless body... In the middle of the day. Frozen in death, my corpse now rots Eaten by worms and maggots That now fester in my flesh... While the sun sets past the horizon. Ashes to ashes, dust cannot be thus When one does not understand. While I die lonely and cold... As I walk down t

How must one suffer what one cannot comprehend? Slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes Are naught but concepts that live only In a person’s imagination, ready to be Discredited at an instant of doubt. To die, to sleep, yeah right… Am I afraid to die?  What reason does one Have to fear anything but their own Misconceptions of the ideas that are Placed within their limited thoughts. Look into your life, and what can we see? Identity marred by false hopes and living fears That cannot exist at all, reality is… It is nothing but what the mind makes of it In truth, I do not write, I merely think I do, And in such an

 Early Germany. The eldest daughter of three. The youngest, a son, was sickly and hardly acknowledged. Mother was meek, nervous, and submissive - her only pleasures being housekeeping and waiting on Father, almost ignoring her children completely. Father was crude, greedy, and domineering. He acknowledged his children only when they were doing something wrong or when it would benefit him. Mother was his personal slave. As the eldest, I tended to the animals. Every morning I would let the cows out to graze as I fed the chickens, gathered eggs, and fed the pigs. Then I would feed and milk the cows before going in for breakfast. After breakfa