Going to the Gym was not a common activity for public then.
T'was only the place for body builders and professional athletes

Now it is a common place for everyone who want to lose weight,
an ultimate reason.
What is wrong with humanity that they gain too much weight?
They have better locks to their houses, sound and smell proof walls so no one from outside hears and smells what's cooking inside.
Rich and working class people close their houses and eat all their food inside their houses and dine out in expensive restaurants
and drink all the good wine they could.
They throw away the left overs and run all the way to the gyms and/or
walk long distances every morning and evening to burn those calories.
So it's a process now, eat and burn through physical exercises.

But we forget the true principle of losing weights easily.
In fact it may never require going to the gym or long walks to lose those weights.
We can simply open the door of our houses, at least once, every day and just walk across to our neighbors and to the streets where the needy and homeless live.
SHARE our food and drink with them and we will be surprised
how fast we lose those stubborn weights.

I'm an artist they say...
I painted my illusions of dreams
I drew on a smile everyday,
I was happy, so it seemed

But my palette ran low
As my colors faded grey
Now my life holds on by a thread
And I'm just fighting just to stay

Because as the days go on,
I let these colors bleed through.
From my paper to my skin,
I'm nothing but red, black, and blue.

I turned myself into a canvas
Trying to describe this strife
But it wasn't beautiful at all
For my paintbrush was a knife

And my paintings are nothing but
empty promises of what we once knew
The only color left in my life
Are my memories of you

Her love was limited to words,
So was her promise to swords,
And my fate was terminated...

~~<●>~~

in the rivers of space
there's a place i am told
where the waters of life
run black for the soul

it's a venue to visit
but never to stay
you'll lose yourself in it
be assured you will PAY

you'll lose your heart
all that is good
you'll find that you know
much more than you should

i be more than a expert
i lost mental health
so PLEASE do not go there
or you'll find out YOURSELF

i floated that river
called Styx, truth to tell
and i'll tell you brother
it takes you to
HELL

so don't delve in magic
your life may be sold
for Satan's the boatman

to the

NIGHT OF THE SOUL


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/10/2017

Place me back
into my mother's arms,
or on my father's shoulders,
embracing his ineffable charms.

The highest place I've ever been,
an overwhelming security
felt within.

Place me back
into my mother's and my father's
warm embraces,
the two places I saw unconditional pure love written all over loving faces.

Place me back
so I can feel it all again,
so I can feel safe and secure,
so I can forgive myself
right there, right then.

So I can live a life
without regret,
I didn't realise back then
that time would disappear
so fast - those years,
I will never ever forget.

Lady R.F ©2017

The briny tears have dried
The sounding knells are stilled
The grieving crowd, dispersed
The parting pain, allayed

Benumbed lie the dead
Beneath the marble vaults
Bereft of power and prowess
Benighted and beaten.

The sun shall never cast its glorious rays
The stars shall never their brilliance shed
The breeze never shall bring tidings new
The showers shall no more drench them through

A thoughtful friend sometimes seen around
A fervent prayer at times chanted aloud
A plaited wreath, rarely laid over
A trite rite, randomly carried out

There’s none left to mourn or weep
Nor anyone to sing, sigh or sob
Leaving the dead to rot in the closure of graves
To life’s alluring charms, the dear depart.

Cold as clay the dead lie so still
To be feasted on by maggots and the worms
Life with all its glory – defunct
Its fever and fret too – extinct.

How in vain we run after wealth
The power and position we deem so great
Shall come to naught within Time’s gloomy vault
Yet we run and yet we straggle behind.

In vain ends our travail for might
Inglorious is our quest after fame
Transient turn the riches, we garner
Short lived is their gleam and glitter.

Oh Lord! Lead us not into illusory charms
Deliver us of our avarice to hoard
For all that is born and made
‘Must consign to death and come to dust.’