The Few Stand


A tap on the pavement.
The world is a hard unforgiving place,
If you fall it will hurt like mad and you may never get up again.
Laying down here, you are surrounded by deep darkest cinders as you become as ash.
But up there is still as dark.
But living.
Living, breathing, permeating dark,
That blocks life’s light from ripping this black charade in two.
The many fall.
The few stand,
And the fewer fall and stand again,
And shout “I will”
“I will conquer this shadowy light-forsaken world.”

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I Stand Alone.


I step through flowers in the rain,

Standing alone.

The rain pours, a million drops of silver.

Street lamps shine on the glistening fallings,

Like eyes of orange honey dripping, spreading through the watery air.

I look up,

into the above,

into the wet pinched globes rushing down.

I stare,

An abundance of glowing powers, some are dead,

but live on in our sight,

in our light.

 

Reflections of raindrops in each other,

All showing the powers of the infinite nocturnal sky.

 

Stand, look, stare and see-

 

The night is alive,

The stars are awake,

To the music of the skies.