Poems Rendered by a Damaged Soul

Free download. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. You can download and read online Poems Rendered by a Damaged Soul file PDF Book only if you are registered here. And also you can download or read online all Book PDF file that related with Poems Rendered by a Damaged Soul book. Happy reading Poems Rendered by a Damaged Soul Bookeveryone. Download file Free Book PDF Poems Rendered by a Damaged Soul at Complete PDF Library. This Book have some digital formats such us :paperbook, ebook, kindle, epub, fb2 and another formats. Here is The CompletePDF Book Library. It's free to register here to get Book file PDF Poems Rendered by a Damaged Soul Pocket Guide.

At first, the sun was brave but afraid. It rose up courageously from the night Its grace radiated in the sky. But the black clouds came Reminding the sun of the night Of the darkness of the night.

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam - Wikipedia

Then thunder crashed all around The clouds tears fell to the Earth The sun was,once again, afraid. It hid away, once again. Afraid to beam down on the Earth.


  • The Life of the Blessed Virgin Mary & The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
  • Poems Rendered by a Damaged Soul - AbeBooks - Danny A Francis: .
  • Poem: Broken Soul.
  • Comment briser le coeur de sa mère (Littérature Française) (French Edition)!
  • Contentieux fiscal (Les Fondamentaux Droit-Sciences Politiques t. 172) (French Edition);

Though the clouds wipe the tears away The thunder tired of its rage The sun anticipated the next storm, But still appeared with grace and glory. But the sun knew to light up the world It had to Because it had a very special purpose When the night's reign had to end.

Innocence taken. Voice forsaken. He waits, deep down inside. No one sees him, no one hears him strangling scraping away my time. A faint mark of blood shadows your hands? That was me. You weren't to know. The shell is clean. I wander free. A drop of poison each time you sigh? I walk free. A song of sadness suffocating your smile? I seem free. The stain imprints on each encounter. Run softly. Walk now because that was me. Im not free.

Poem of the week: Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth

If I could somehow Talk to the little girl me And tell her what I know now I wonder what that would be. Would I tell her all that will occur Or encourage her to go another way? Would I tell her that I believe her And what not to say? Would I warn her of each tragedy That will befall? But then I wouldn't be the me I've come to be Yet still so much will happen to this little girl so small. Dear little girl I know it's so hard Living in this nightmare world Where you become so scarred And your heart gets so broken From all that you endure.

Dear little girl, you are not forsaken I know you want to feel safe and secure. Dear little girl, you are not alone I know that it feels that way As you carry all your sadness on your own. Dear little girl, there will come a brighter day, Even though it's been so very long And you don't even remember what that is like.

Dear little girl, just stay strong Through every strike, I know how very hard that is When it never seems to end. Dear little girl, I promise you this, God will send you a wonderful friend More than one actually Who will help you through And become like family, They will surround you.

Dear little girl, it's not your fault You were never meant to carry this all on your own I know it's your default To carry it all alone. Dear little girl, you are not who you've been told By evil ones who just wish to cause you more pain. Dear little girl, you are worth more than gold To the One Who has given you a new name. Dear little girl, you are chosen By the One Who has redeemed you Even with your broken and scarred heart so frozen.

Dear little girl, everything that I tell you is true I know how hard it is for you to trust You hold so very much heartache and pain inside Because of this life into which you were thrust Leaving you wanting to just run and hide. Dear little girl, who could blame you? You've been taught right is wrong and wrong is right With all that you've been through You can't see any light through the endless night. Dear little girl, it's going to be okay You are going to make it And things will be better one day Even though all this pain, you won't be able to completely shake it God is going to use everything For His glory As through it all, you, He does bring Will be your testimony.

Dear little girl, you are wanted, You are His beloved child Even though your past is haunted And not all has been reconciled. Dear little girl, you are His forever, Not forgotten, But held and treasured His adored begotten. Dear little girl, I know how hard it is To understand and believe That loving fathers do exist, Who will protect you and never leave. But my dear little girl, you are loved, Far greater than you could ever imagine By a Loving Father above I know how hard that is to fathom But His love is a love that is true The kind that I know you dream about Because dear little girl, I am you; So trust me and have no doubt That we are going to make it through.

Things will be better one day I promise you And we will be okay. Monotone, I live my life in monotone, The colour gone, Taken Stolen, long ago. They own me, Still beyond life, No longer of this world, They manage to own me.

“A free-form, open-ended communal play experience”: poetry, film, and the Typewriter Underground

You were sleeping and sleeping and then woke up because rumbles And don't remember which monster it was but you were poisoned In places you thought were yours and there is nothing left anymore. There is nothing left anymore. Details deaden the eyes and seep sludge from pores too ungood to exist. It will not be spoken of. It will silently and politely die. This happened other times but they are memories of air, unbreathed and unspent. Caravanised in isolation, the ebb and flow of it, became clear.

That it happened according to the decibel sinusoids of their yells Before dusk leafed down. You were all that was left for two hungry bogs Whose marriage was mortared in the fact that they were the same in every way. At least you were wanted. You grew to hate every pore, cultivating conceptual blossoms for why everything was wrong and extensive resculpturing would not fix the deformed lumpen fallout-smearing mass of that radiation-hued face. There was a moment of silence.

Of absence. Fertile soil to grow yourself anew. A dream of one thousand paper cranes paneling you to life. And fire. Pure fire. Declaring yourself pure all along. Poisonless all along. It spread like an epidemic of courage.

Do You Know

Courage sitting in the darks, awaiting a moment of escape. It announced itself in the heresy of spring, muraling new life as you put the ice age behind you. Days filled with dread Nights filled with fear Each and every one For eight long years A smile covers pain A laugh covers a tear Not a soul knew Except the one who drank the beer. My words muffled by threats I could say nothing or he would attack The bruises easily covered By sleeves colored black My flinches played off From a brush against my back.