Resting (day 3207)

This is the feeling of broken again
The one that rest inside
And cannot find words to share
Because the words that come
Are accusations
Frustrations
Words that will take us nowhere
A fight I no longer have the breath
To take an inhale for.
So I will close my eyes
And rest my deepest rest
So that I can find within
The soul that needs to rise
From the broken pieces
Resting.

Whisper (day 3206)

Whisper-by-Ned-Tobin

This hurts and I’m not sure
And I don’t want to guess anymore.
So I clap both my hands
To suggest who I am.

Not for a way,
Not for a guess,
Not for a little bit,
Not for the end.

And I whisper
Into the death of my vision
So I may not know
The next steps to be taken
With wind in my face
And a slump, lacking all grace.

Palms (day 3204)

What brings the soul of a man
Deep within the palm of his hand?
For I have seen two men astray
Neither I tried to save.
In the grace of our Gods
We stand before each war we fought
Did we strike the hammer strong
Or lose out before our lungs
Belted loud our souls devout.
Have I faced the pain inside?
Did I let my body cry?
Was it I who charged ahead
Though each wind spoke up in dread?
Tell me sweetly in my good ear
Was I faithful to each your dream
Can I be the trusted man
Of your every step?
For I hold my palms open
To feel the warmth of every day
I have spoken out your name
In hopes it leads my heart so true
And if it shall bring my life astray
May I be the man to say
My palms are wet.

Itchy Memories (3200)

Inspiration has laid waste
To a plethora of heart songs
And itchy memories,
Each of which stands tall
On the distant horizon
Glimmering in a sea of illusion
That makes it hard to look back at.
For the sun beats down so strong,
And ghosts most definitely do
Walk here amongst us.
There will never come a time
When they fade away,
For my last lifetimes visions
Still slide with me
And my future lifetimes
Still visit me,
But today I still do not look back
For this road forward
Still has clear recognition
To which I need not gamble
To play at.

Gates (day 3194)

No longer could the gates be closed
No longer were they present
Abandoned
For when the sky
Turned its evil red
A wind swept in
Opening the holes
Receding each memory
Until desolation took hold
And all was washed
White with time
Which left no one
To collect
Fragments of dust
Standing guard
At the gates
They could no longer close.

Rotting Extinction (day 3170)

There were no more ways for the buffalo to roam
Fences stopped their grazing and wild land migration
Farmers began to cultivate their food with chemicals
And soon they became desired by man for their very skin
That kept them warm through the winter
Leaving the only thing they couldn’t be robbed of
Their soul, their wild and herd driven soul
Alone, rotting on the fields forever.