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If my memories  were  that ravishing,
i wouldn't worry about the future
life is short
but it feels too long sometimes ...

If only a voice could whisper in the depths of my soul and comfort me!
this is a rant
on who the painter is who paints a white canvas.
who makes it blank, all the same?
Who paints with one color, the confused?
My painter, the one who created this canvas
this universe this creation
paints with many shades of
variance. He paints not
one nation, not one race, not one star, not one season,
he paints
many faces,
many days all different
many nights some dark
some radiant.
He painted  us the colors
of all of heaven. Gave us the many shades of gray.
He painted a sunrise yellow of goldest glow,
a night to see the day with a new perspective.
He painted choices right
and painted us the freedom to choose.
Trees of many green with barks light and dark
some are white. All are right.
Remember who painted this.
He painted a sky
not always blue.
In the swirling tempest she waits,
a spirit held in reverent patience and abandoned solace.
Just as it was always meant to be,
her ice cold hands reach out,
pulling me in to the unknown,
a void so willingly embraced.
© H V Swan
Pneumatic bliss,
dissolution on a solenoid whim,
electrified soul as the tape ejects.

© H V Swan
I belong to another,
one who cannot be mentioned,
her name blows through the highest of roof tops and tallest of trees,
she whispers soft delights that resonate through my soul,
healing my wounds, making me whole,
her radiance brings the gladdest of tidings to this weary heart.
© H V Swan
The compass set and horizon found,
our journey starts with a bound,
With Sturdy foot and hearty gait,
in haste we race toward our fate,
with silent solace we do decree our constant yearning to be free,
but the watchman’s scythe will cut us down,
before there's chance to claim our crown.
© H V Swan
A house full of spectres,
a mouth full of rye,
left out in the darkness,
someone will cry.

death was a reason,
tears were for show,
once out of the bottle,
these spectres wont go.
© H V Swan
Wide mouth mason jar
To capture the loneliness,
Her hands remain still.
I can scream, i can yell.
But it won't stop the voices in my head.
I can cry and be called weak,
But I'm the strongest person i know considering what I've been through.
I am strong and i need to believe that.
You are strong also, just believe.
Don't worry about whats already happened, focus on whats happening now.
Love is the strongest feeling as people say,
but I say happiness finds you more then love could ever find you.
Be happy and stay strong!!!
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