Crawling search
toward warming sun
and power,
she reigns su-
preme when I plead for rescue,
my guts float on, lost.
Crawling search
toward warming sun
and power,
she reigns su-
preme when I plead for rescue,
my guts float on, lost.
Depression, Fear, God, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Shadorma
This entry was posted on February 5, 2017, 2:43 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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Stillfugue |
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Fiction, Poetry, Essays |
#1 by stillight on February 5, 2017 - 3:01 pm
Awesomeness!! I love how you have strung these words together to produce this thought.
#2 by Carl on February 5, 2017 - 3:34 pm
You’re very kind, Jennifer! I feel lucky for your words. Your writing is part of what kept me going while I couldn’t lift a pen, so thank you for your visit!
#3 by stillight on February 5, 2017 - 4:02 pm
Awww, so kind of you to say, Carl. This was great, honestly. I hope your pen is lighter now and in the coming days you are able to pick it up more and more. I’ve missed your writing. You have a voice the world needs.
#4 by Carl on February 5, 2017 - 4:12 pm
Well, thank you again, Jennifer! You have boosted my spirits!
#5 by Carl D'Agostino on February 6, 2017 - 3:43 pm
Yes, float on with your gut feelings.
#6 by Carl on February 6, 2017 - 9:10 pm
Lost but they keep getting smarter.