Let the words flow. Let the pictures speak

Pained transition…

Witness, a peaceful night played, uncontrolledness,
what seemed perfectly weaved moments, matted,
shred into pieces, were all of a sudden, bonded ties,
such power that spared none, shattered, torn apart.

Happenings I knew not, what were, incidental,
a mind of its own, seemed to, those things have,
self defined, a clear pace, going on its own way,
already decided upon, a result, seemingly towards.

Quite unacceptable, the resulting revelation seemed
external world fading slowly, the base losing ground.
Faced with impossibility, digesting facts seemed to be,
The question, why it did happen, still killing within…

Passing times, silently settling in, the new situation,
into strong urge, a quiet conversion of pain, processed.
To quit the past, corroding present, something be done,
In turn the future depleted, a risk, which otherwise be.

Untold skills, the urge brought out, light shed,
upon hidden talents, forms of words, pain took,
compositions formed, a result, repeated strikes,
seemed to bring out the questions deep within.

Unanswered, unexplained, the situation, still remains,
person, it ought to have, those works never did reach.
A direct approach, the consequence it threatens to pose,
unthinkable, prohibits, love, that still burns deep within.

The message be conveyed, the faith still within, someday,
righteously found, a solution to those questions, care seen.
An inspiration to others, it shall be, until such times, solace,
for others, those like me, still in hope, someday, it shall work.

-Nocturnal poet

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