Posted in mental, mental dilemma, perceptions, poetry

Mirror

Your movements are like an ocean without the tidal waves. You flow with calming persistence.

Your armor is that of steel plates that seem impenetrable. No earthly weapons forged can withstand the power of your resistance.

Your pride carries an unwavering tune that stifles all surrounding thoughts and opinions. What else can be said that is not already displayed?

The melodies of your heart shout with passion and, interestingly enough, some confusion. Almost as if you are demonstrating the essence of determination.

Your mind is awakened with eagerness to expand its potential. Turning the pages as if there is a neverending supply of unsaturated material.

The soft touch of your hands can bring motivation and hope behind possibilities. Can it be a matter of coincidence that they are most guarded in spaces that bring them peace?

Now even with that display of prowess, you still have yet to understand the truth behind the eyes you see. For some reason you are still left wondering how a smile and strength can hide one’s own incompetence to identifying their true greatness.

What more do you seek? What is there left to see? Could it be that this mirrored reflection is only a distraction from the timeless and subtle feeling of fear underneath?

Has it finally hit you that this method of protection and safety is obsolete? No need to ponder more on what is unknown, because at the end of it all what matters is Who you have known.

What is greatness without the acknowledgement that you will never be fully in control, especially when pushing beyond expectations can take its toll.

Why work so hard to show others your capabilities when you have yet to grasp the person you see? Home is where the heart is but what is home without Him in it?

Now I ask you again…what is your true conviction?

Posted in demons, family, mental, poetry, questions, relationships

Reading It Backwards

How does one be a keeper of a home still filled with the aftershock of it all?

Why is there utter stiffness in one’s reaction to witnessing the beginning of what could be the end?

Where does one turn to when they are drowning in the fear of escalation?

When can one process the essence of safety when their innocence of childhood is fading in front of them?

What possesses a person to illuminate that devil-like presence in front of others?

Who is to blame for that lack of anticipation?