Severin - WIP

From my story: Prophecy of the Moon

More to come!

Smaller Places -- Edit

I seek the smaller places,
The older ways,
The quiet whispers.
I seek the narrow streets,
The crooked fences,
and garden weeds.

A world of rusty tires,
Unclasped hands
And downcast eyes.
To walk the empty roads,
The chipped sidewalks
And pale skies.

I seek the older heartaches
With familiar pain
And closed-up wounds.
I seek the smaller places,
The unbound hearts --
The open rooms.

She lived the Wilderness --
it flourished inside of her,
a tactical advantage
to those that broached her heart.
Her lips were a riddle
of winding rivers
and broken streams,
her eyes were a north star
hid by cloud cover
and moon beams.
She tempted young adventurers
To test their merrits
and their youth.
And one by one they failed,
Found naught the New World
But broken truth.
She lived and died in the wilderness,
Lost and hiding,
Her secrets unfound.
Her treasures went undiscovered,
Her land grown old,
The wilderness unbound.


I have no idea how to finish this poem, ugh....

Answer me, dammit!

God confuses me.

He won't answer my questions. I want to know what my purpose is. What my meaning is. How I might find the direction and the stability that I seek. I want to share my faith with people, but I feel like they won't understand. I just want to be around people who believe in God and will let me have that personal relationship without trying to force their other beliefs on me. It is as Milton said -- God is Love, the rest is dialogue. I just want someone to accept me and my faith with no questions, as I would accept theirs. Faith and God are so important to me. I just want to talk to Him and listen and understand. I suppose that's what we all want, but what none of us really have. It hurts me sometimes to think that after finding Him, I'm still seeking. I'm still looking for answers, and goddamn my logical mind, it will not accept dogma as the truth. My mind wants God to tell me the truth, but God won't speak, at least not in words that the intellect understands. My heart knows its own answers, but it is keeping them from me just as surely as the great Beyond. I can feel His peace, but I am no closer to intellectually comprehending what is in store for me than anyone else.

I'll just pray to be led down the right path once again. Hopefully this time the right path will be easier to keep to.

Don't Kill This Rose

Don't kill this rose for me,
For it will never smell as sweet
as a love that never was,
and a bloom that will never be.
Don't force the tattered petals
To wilt slowly and decay;
This is beauty-preserved incarnate,
Far longer lasting than love's sway.
For this rose will repeat forever
If it is allowed the chance to grow --
Unlike a love that never was,
Or a bloom we'll never know.

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You know you're going insane when you start laughing at witty jokes in Milton's essays. "And must tradition then ever thus to the world's end be the perpetual cankerworm to eat out God's commandments?" Lol Milton I love you.

Byrem -- Colored, pretty much finished

So because of the sudden really heavy onset of homework and whatnot, I've had to speed up the "final detail" part of this portrait. I think it looks fine the way it is, I wanted to add more to the cloak and play with the hair longer, but I just don't have time. So this is the pretty much finished version. Enjoy!

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