Now because I am just sitting here by myself with nothing better to do a sweetheart and everybody loves me, I’m going to post a finish to the previous poem. If the last one was about destruction this one is about repair, The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, the silver lining of growth found under a hardship. I don’t have much to say for it…as these things ought speak for themselves (fun fact: ought is a real word, and so is aught…but that means something different) . I guess it’s more like the inevitable end to these terrible feelings so many people seem to hold towards themselves…Silence is a crippling answer to a question you vested your being into…after all “the Devil dances in idle minds” right? So if you are one of these people, keep in there…it’ll come, you’ll find your Raison D’etre, and what once felt like such torture will just become the path that lead you to heaven.
The Herald’s Cry
In killing himself, He Killed the pain they sewed
So now he sits there but a corpse
A blank slate in black, waiting to be chiseled
Looking for a direction to plot the course
This world of darkness holds its share of comfort
Lending peace, nothing holding thoughts down
Allowing comprehension to the gravity of things
Showing he must not be paralyzed this time around
Time flows as he ponders, maybe an eternity or so
Then a ray cuts thru the stifling night from a crack
It was mere curiosity, and would have ended there
Had she not noticed that the abyss staring back
She opened the door, and extended her hand
Laying clearly for the confined an escape path
He shot a questioning glare, showing stubborn intent
Warning the light the dangers of her trespass
As if like a spell the Light whispered to him
Transforming his planted state with her throat
The melancholy mitt reached out of the shade
Tantalized by her acts and words of hope
The monster once held under the cloak of night
Soon proved to be nothing of the sort
He dazzled, he charmed, he amazed with his wit
The dog of night finding new home in light’s court
One day the Pup asked how she could stand him
Knowing he was but a beast of the dark
She answered: “every night has its moon, my dear…”
“besides, no ordinary mutt could hold my heart”
From the ends of time these kindred souls met
Their endearment lost only to a fool
How else could a world not be torn apart
If not both light and darkness ruled.
for no particular reason:
Black Sheep Codex 
Reblogged this on Fairytale Epidemic and commented:
Once upon a time, an alliance was formed.
And it changed everything.
Les grandes pensées viennent du coeur.