The Falling Maples- Living Unconditionally- Poetry by S.S

Inflammation of the sore heart, is far from the mortal form's capacity to contemplate, Breathlessness and ache defines the physical self, Darkness and deliberate distance from the earthly world defines the inner-self, But do ye who call my own understand the tumult? Leave alone the intensity of the upheaval, I contest and challenge their capability of such reflection! Nay, but I declare ye cannot fathom what is damaged within me, To stand alongside the hurt form, be not same, As to stand in affirmation to the agonized pneuma's plea, Try not to mend what lays scattered, Endeavor to bring together the pieces of a broken mirror, And you shall see the scars still remain, ready to turn into wounds, Speculate oh worldly souls, Observe and ponder over what say you all, And you shall foresee a dead form, still shackled, For she died fighting and still tied.... (c) S.S

Make way through the time, into my atrocious life, Look back on the path you strode upon, And you would see the endless light,  It would be the glitters of thine steps, my beloved, And as you halt to reevaluate your affection, You shall see the black smoke rise, The smoke of lack of faith, And you would see me, still anticipating, thine arrival.... (c) S.S

She doesn't say that she has walked upon roses and velvet, But she had not learnt the art of stride upon thorns, And now as she looks back on the path covered, A long trail of blood sheathed footprints are seen, Which to her bewildered self, are her own.... (c) S.S

And hear my howl, Of love, Of pain, Of yearning, Of seeking, Of calling, Of tenderness, Of craving For I am me, when alive, And in spirit, when no more.... Poem & Sketch (c) S.S

Anticipation of the anomic soul, Is the sweetest and the saddest apprehensions of all, What has been heard, and has been read, thee, Now is sought for real, as the greatest miracle of this inept being.... Poem & Sketch (c) S.S

I breathe not in illusion, But I detest the reality, The actuality of the pain, Ye who say they understand, Be more than their bounds of fathomable capacity, And thou, who be the righteous, I await the answer, Do you stand with the crowd to give me the final blow? Or Do you repose to hold my frame when I collapse? I wouldn't know until thou hold my hand.... Poem & Sketch (c) S.S

Cry once, those belittled tears, Make space for strength, and shed those fears, Be tenacious, Oh daughter of the One Spirit, There is no one, that you can call your own, You are and have been a drop, floating in the seas of falsities, It's time you rise, make your own cloud, your own rain and your own sea.... Poem & Sketch (c) S.S