awestrucklollirot

I stand on the barnacle-covered rocks The foam of the sea beckoning The frigid mist slowly surrounds me Obscuring the bonds of harmony and peace I once had The crushing waves beg for my affection They offer solace in their cold embrace Gratefully, they sweep me under For me to fulfill my fate I am now an anchor Resting at the bottom of the sea Through the murky and icy waters, I found my home with the sunken ships and unknown curiosities; My ghostly presence has transformed me Into an old Fisherman's myth Together, we shared the same end Carried off to live in the throes of the briny deep Our once-graceful hearts filled with

My happiness is like a worn road weeds growing from the cracks I wander down to see changes in my weak sentimentality A foreclosure sign has been posted on my heart some may speculate that I was irresponsible with payments or I bought out of my league truth is there is many reasons some of them were just out of my control the years have lingered on and a desolate house stands before me graffiti painted on the door weather beaten and tattered I pray for a tsunami a surge of twisting and crashing outrage to sweep this facade that was once called a sanctuary the outlook is unclear but there may be hope to rebuild

The peace of sleep has passed over me left me a restless mess The darkness pulls me down and buries my consciousness I see the radiant glow fading and  sounds of the raven calling I can feel the icy winds blow in my heart I shiver and pull the blankets closer to me but from this hopelessness comes your sweet song your voice softly moves gentle waves in my soul I will float in this ocean Your love is like the sun peeping over the mountain shy of the waxing moon that shines so brightly Its void of complexity and filled with a simplistic truth speak love speak its in your words I can only find solace I can only find sleep wit

As I roam through this desert, the sky is painted with black ink I peer into the darkness that lays before me I can hear the bleak and somber rustling of the wind The silence of the moonlight is haunting I am widow of flourishing flora and fauna that I once knew My soul cries "but there is hope, Until a bed of flowers grow from you, there is hope" These tired bones lumber on I will walk in this unknown March through this despair But in my weakness my knees collapse into the sand I feel as if a cold and earnest raven is resting on my back taunting me taunting me to lose faith and give in the uncertainty My soul cries, "There is h