definition: a lyric poem, typically one in the form of an address to a particular subject, written in varied or irregular metre (a classical poem of a kind originally meant to be sung)
Mayflies spend a year awaiting their birth, and then most die after living just one day. Their sole purpose is to pass on their genes.
we all are born
bright eyed like mayflies
on a linear path
to our own demise
no purpose but to
but that doesn’t mean we won’t
try find meaning to a short lived life
no time to cry
fly towards the light
quickly, before –
if my hope for humanity
had to be stored somewhere
I would place it
in a seed
planted into the palms of lovers
grows a giant oak tree
I see some leaves are caressed by the sun
even though the shared roots suggest
we are all children from the same family tree
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definition: add notes to (a melody) to produce a pleasing combination
I’m the girl who wonders
if she truly has stars beneath her skin
or if she’d spend her entire life
setting off fireworks into daylight
no spark, no shine
dotted by the clouds left behind
unable to answer the explosive questions
that fill her dazed mind
who am I?
I am a girl who has a heart that yearns for a soul
for loss of control
to scream at the seas for a reason to be
who is He?
they say only when you’re engulfed in darkness
can you see beyond the trees
so I stand at the edge of the known world
in the night
climb onto the highest branch
look towards the horizon
for blessed light
and can’t imagine anything existing
beyond my limited sight
#1 #2 #3
I hate the dichotomy that controls me –
spending every day with
the paralysing fear of death and
inability to commit to life
I find myself lost in the woods,
searching for a purpose to my existence.
filled with envy towards those that cling to the highest branches,
holding onto the hope that
perhaps trees grow towards the sky
to be closer to something just outside our line of vision
something better than
humanity’s nihilistic tendencies
meanwhile, I stumble blindly into the clearing
collapsing onto the ground
with a heart that has
no confidence in a soul
scattered thoughts about identity
fills my mind
spilling from my hair
as I open my palms
to the possibility of catching
principles to guide me
they slip through my fingers
(like how they often slip my mind)
and stain the grass
with shades of my hypocrisy
always holding people up to standards built on their actions
yet judging myself merely on my intentions
ephemeral thoughts do not construct reality
– only who you want to be –
so I vow to the sun in that moment
to live with more integrity
I stop talking to the birds
and start walking
I wake up besides the enchanted lake.
trying to find some semblance of meaning
in the face that stared back at me,
I realised too much self-reflection
only resulted in less clarity.
vague shapes and lines
ultimately paints no more
than my indulgence in vanity.
your perspective from your limited capacity
is not a path to true discovery.
journey instead on the road less taken.
overturn every rock,
and discover the unexpected.
keep companions that will set fire to fallen leaves
because only when your world is up in flames,
will you realise all that’s vital
burns the heart.
I will never find my way out of the forest,
and I still fear for what lies beyond the trees,
but my bruised and battered body holds substance
in the knowledge that I will keep walking.
We are extremely lucky to live in a day and age where freedom of speech is upheld by most societies. Those who have access to this article and the ability to understand the English language can assumably read the words on this page and discuss them with fellow readers without fear of persecution.
This liberty is fundamental to our rights and it should apply to all citizens regardless of their standing in society, the traits they are born with or the decisions they have made throughout their life.
Unfortunately, when it comes to the delicate subject of religion, the upholding this universal right is lackluster at best.
It seems like at the drop of the G-bomb, you must suddenly tip-toe around the conversation holding up a white flag that says “I’m politically correct, don’t hurt me!”
Why is that conversation so unnecessarily uncomfortable?
What’s the solution? Banning people from talking altogether? Continue reading “*CENSORED* TITLE”