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Love invasion

*Here I go again.
I can hear the rattling
of the heavy chains
Padlocked to the door
of my heart.

The crumbling
of tall granite walls
built to keep love out of me.

The light is getting in now
you have got inside of me.
Just enough to make me
fall in love again.

I cannot hold my breath
Before the look of you
takes it away.
A final crash as all my
defences crumble.
You are standing in the rubble.
So much beauty
So much what I need.

I am falling apart
at the power of you.
Then without my consent
You write  your name
Indelibly on my soul.

Many, many years ago
When the earth was new
There lived a lovely butterfly
Her wings of brightest blue
Everyday was happy
As she fluttered all around
Visiting each precious bloom
Each garden they were found

Till one day by courier
A message she received
The news was far from happy
The words caused her to grieve
Her mate was lost in battle
It broke her fragile heart
Never more would there be joy
Her world was torn apart

To show her grief she slowly
Removed her precious wings
Discarded everything she loved
The memories they bring
Then wrapped about her body
In a way to show her grief
A drab cocoon of teardrops
Then sat in disbelief

She could not eat, could not sleep
Her sadness did abound
So worried was her family
They often came around
Not to be a burden
She packed her simple things
Rolled them in a bundle
As well, her precious wings

She took off on a journey
As every day was kept
A map of where she traveled
By every tear she wept
The sadness so consuming
Her head she held so low
Downcast eyes the path she took
A heart that’s beating slow

Crossing creeks and valleys
What ever she did meet
Touching each and every stone
Beneath her tiny feet
Around the world she traveled
Her journeys filled in length
For many days and many months
Running short of strength

About to end the story
Her broken heart near death
She prayed for time to hurry
Her last and final breath
For love had left her being
Wandering alone
That day her mate did breathe no more
The message she was shown

When seemingly from nowhere
A beauty sharp and sweet
A stone now lay upon the ground
Below these tired feet
Though different was this relic
Such beauty not concealed
The loveliness this stone possessed
Her sorrow slowly healed

It lay as a reminder
That ugliness might play
But found within this sorrow
Some beauty was displayed
And then her eyes did open
The perfect shade of brown
When then she noticed wonders
Were waiting to be found

Like diamonds in the river
A perfect flower’s bloom
So happy had she now become
She cast off her cocoon
Shook the dust from on her wings
The brightest color blue
Put them on and offered thanks
This chance at life anew

She danced the dance of butterflies
And spread her story wide
To family and friends alike
The truth she did confide
In loss there will be sorrow
But life is just a time
Remember but the good you had
And you will be just fine

In everything is beauty
All that you will see
Whether in the rising sun
Or stones beneath your feet
Always find the goodness
It lies before you eyes
I promise you’ll find happiness
When you realize

So dance with me this morning
Spread your fancy wings
Follow me this summer’s eve
And see the joy it brings
If ever you feel sorrow
Don’t forget the chance
Gives thanks to all the good you have
And let your spirit dance
Sorry, I know it's long.
I looked into myself one day,
like I never looked before,
and I realized that what I have inside: I don't want it anymore!

All these weaknesses, this is not who I want to be;
this is not even how other people see me....

I thought I was stronger, I thought I was smarter, I saw myself braver, better than I was, I overestimated myself, I guess I just need a pause.

The door to my soul is open, it just doesn't close, maybe all of this is from a sadness overdose.

What I have inside, I need to clean it out; tried to do it alone, but it just wouldn't let go; all the problems in me just keep saying no! We won't go!

Now, I still got my faults,
I still have my flaws,
but I also disappointed myself;
I couldn't keep my own laws...

Refrain, restrain,
all things are in vain. 

I thought I could do it,
but I had to learn the hard way,

only God can save me:
there is no other way;

you can improve yourself, sure,
you can get better, but there will be a time when you'll be caught off guard, later, when your not ready, or when your tired, who will hold you up then, someone you admired?

Anyone will criticize, anyone can point, but who will stop to help, who won't disappoint?

Only Jesus can help you, only He can set you free, 
from the struggles inside,
from all of which you flee,
and no matter what,
to Him you can always go,
if you need help,
you can always ask, and the truth will set you free,
free from your own mask,
and your lies,
you won't need them anymore, cause on wings of truth you'll soar,
and when you'll need to stand,
you can stand tall,
on a mountain of truth from which you can never fall. 

Now in Him I can improve, in Him I can grow,
because He forgave my sins, He made them go, no,
I don't have to worry, about my destiny, he gave me peace,
he made me worry-free.

I forgot it for a bit, forgot the way to the light, I forgot that He saved me long ago, saved me with His might.

There is nothing here for me, nothing more to see, so I'm on my way now, to become forever free.
I wrote this poem more than a year ago, when I felt really disappointed by myself for my lack of character and maturity.

It took me three days to write, in spite of the fact that it usually takes me about half an hour to finish a regular poem...
Little sapling growing on the roadside, defying the pitiful looks of passers by, fate has truly given you a poor place to reside,  but one day, you'll grow to touch the sky.

Poor little sapling, struggling to survive, but when you'll grow, under your shade all will thrive...

People look down on you now, rejoice, for when you'll grow, with respect before you they'll bow.

Inspire them you will, and poems of you they'll write, fires will burn beneath you still, in the middle of the night.
Wrote this after I saw a little tree trying to grow on the dusty roadside... The little guy really inspired me.
I've been to a forest where the birds are always singing, and the echo in the forest, it too is always ringing, with the silence of the trees, and the rustle of the leaves, It's where I go to pray, on my knees, it's where I praise the creator of all I see; He gives me strength; He changes me.


Where rain falls in drops of silk,
where engulfing fog is white as milk,

where the notes from my flute,
are carried wide and far,
where moonless nights are black as tar, 

I see the night sky painted in spots of white, and the moon shining bright,

where I can hear the lonely owl, 
or the ghostly wolf howl,

where the sight of fireflies rids your heart of lies, and inspires perfect, poetic lines...

It's a little piece of paradise, where I go to clean my eyes.
I actually know a forest like this in Romania, but this poem specifically has been written in Germany, in a little forest in winter, where I would go out and play my flute, taking advantage of the Forest's great acoustics which greatly amplified every note coming out of my flute.
As the light bulb in my lamp slowly burns it’s life away,
I read to the music of rain, falling from clouds of gray.

Surrounded by old books and travel souvenirs,
I can feel the coziness of warm old memories,
as they light up my heart with joyful melodies.

Dusk has passed and the rain has ceased,
dispersed clouds the night sky have eased,
as they let rays of white moonlight,
reflect from many droplets, shining bright.

As the clock ticks away into the night,
the silence grows overwhelming,
so I’ll play my favorite songs tonight,
while my adventures remembering
If the world is bleak and tasteless, and you hope that your death will be painless,

and all around you are wolves and sheep, and only your lyrics are true and deep,

and your talent is unappreciated,
and you yourself are underrated,

If your dream for the world is misunderstood, and you are not part of any brotherhood,

If they belong in groups, and are slaves to peer pressure, if you are a loner, pursuing quiet and leisure,

If you feel that life is just a speck of dust; stone will erode and iron will rust,

If all hope is naive, but the hope of dying, and people forgot the truth; they believe in lying,

If all are selfish, and none is true, then listen to me, as I speak to you:

Look at the meadows, flowers, trees,
feel the wind, earth and the seas...

Look at the children: happy and carefree, in which their parents found meaning and destiny....

Look at poets and thinkers like you, people who've made it their mission to speak true...

Look at the farmer in the field, who depends on God's mercy for the crops to yield...

Their lives are not as bleak as they seem,
colorful emotions fill their routine.

So don't loose hope, hope is for the brave! The person of change is not depression's slave...

Start by speaking up, change the world you see, only then you'll discover: that's your destiny.

Anyone can criticize, anyone can point, but who will start to work, who won't disappoint?
I wrote this poem after reading numerous depressing and sad poems...
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