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The AbsentIt goes on, like a top always turning,
The day always blinding; except to us.
The world still spins while we are static.
The sun still shines but not on our brows.
Memories vanish as grass grows above us
Life passes by in a flash without us.
Yells and shouts contrast to our silence;
A silence no one will pause for.
A silence of the absent.
Self DestructionAll is burning
A city sacked
A heart of stone
Into rubble and ash.
All is grief and pining
As tears go adrift;
Lost in a sea of thirst
Without an anchor,
No hope and no prayer.
All past remorse emerges,
Piercing into fevered skin;
One who avoids chances
With the goal of winning
Can only find loss.
All is destroyed
By a burning passion
That turned destructive,
And left but dust
On a fire-eaten skeleton.
A subtle rain
Like loving balm
As a restorative would heal,
But for the burning embers:
Witnesses to the bereft, cheated, charred.
No deliverance. No redemption.
Only scorched remains.
Unanswered PleaIt is- one day
A sweet embrace
Before the bite
Of a bitter sword.
It is- the waiting
For an answer
To a question
It is- all lies
Of shallow days
Before the pain
Of knowing truth.
It is- a scream
Inside your soul
Of the mute.
When facts run dry
And all is hushed,
There is only a heart-beat;
A lonely sound
Beneath an oppressive quiet.
All that lingers
Is a hopeless image:
A pair of eyes that won't answer;
A burned regret
Replacing all in sight.
DesertWhere storms and ice
And wind and rain
Blew in upon a torrid plane,
A restless spirit reined the place
Where silence breaks,
Where light gives pain.
What fate awaited the flowers and trees
And all the good worth saving;
It left the barren earth alone,
Faced with death and grieving...
Over a silent plane bereft of peace
Where all the good was leaving.
The tempest raged like wild vengeance
Till the will lost all its strength;
A deadly calm fell on empty length,
And all was deafened silence.
No more storms could ravage,
There was nothing left to rage;
For hell destroyed like an illness
All left the stillness of the grave.
The Storm's ConsequencesI am there
Any day where there are storms.
Anywhere where there are no flowers.
The angry storms washed me away
The once-vibrant now are dead.
I am the flower that was spring
I was the grass, I was the song to sing.
I longed to flower, to prosper and grow,
Despite the heavy rain and snow.
I wanted seclusion from those little girls
Who love to pick flowers just for pleasure.
Now life's against the wind;
And dawn has darkened into dusk.
In this game of life the power is given
Not to the flower, but to the storm.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More