Rejuvenation

PhoenixBird

I’ve got a place to go,

A hand to hold,

Finally found a home.

Rebuild,

Renew,

Reborn,

Here we go…

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On Hope

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They had found the ending wasn’t difficult. The beginning of the end was. The anticipation burned like the love they had once felt. The time invested had been reduced to clamoring for hope. The allure of hope is that it is immeasurable and cloaked in mystery. We measure great moments of the past by “what ifs.” The paradigm of hope is that it allows us to live in veiled references to how things should be. The brevity of reality brings about the death of hope and we watch as it dissipates into an end. We rest on our laurels ready to resurrect hope to create a beginning in a vision where hope will fuel an eternal love that meets no end. Anticipation creates desires that flow from us in a cup that has no bottom but is quickly desiccated by the cruelty of reality. And it is there – that end we knew could always come – that isn’t necessarily what is difficult but that anticipation that it might trump the hope we had conjured and rested upon, realizing it is now no more.

 

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Forever

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They told me to wait,

But I’ve been waiting forever,

How long is forever?

Cause forever never comes,

To truly live forever,

Means that you’ve died young,

I’ve put my ear to the ground to listen,

But the silence speaks louder than any words,

Footsteps no longer point in any direction,

There is a cessation in the air,

Cause blind faith isn’t faith at all,

When you no longer seem to care.

On Love

Love Thought

Some people are in love. Others are in love with the idea of being in love.

We are all searching for love, but perhaps we don’t understand why. And that’s what scares us. We want to feel something but we aren’t sure what the expectation is of what we should feel.

And the worst is to have it taken away from us. To know that individual doesn’t feel the same way anymore. Perhaps they did never did. Perhaps they were not in love with us but the idea of being in love in the hopes to heal themselves.

Maybe love doesn’t exist. Maybe it is like Heaven. Some idea to give us hope. Some thought that makes our lives worth living and worth fighting for.

Maybe love does exist – just in different levels, degrees, and versions. After all, the language of love appears to be one of the most, if not the most, important aspect of a relationship. But, if we can’t love ourselves, how can we have any love to share with others?

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