Not being heard is no reason for silence

Poetry. Thoughts. This is a side blog. Main blog - seethenewdaydawn.tumblr.com My poems or other things I write are not to be used without my permission.

[seethenewdaydawn]

Hey everybody, I hope you’re having a good day! 😊 Please go check out my friend’s blog @autumnfeuilly and follow her if you haven’t already. She’s the best person ever, cinnamon roll extraordinaire™, and loves musicals and cows! 🐄

Thank you!

[hiddenworldsemerging]

It is time for soldiers and architects To break down walls and build bridges, To fight with the hopeful and for the hopeless, To build roads where there are none, And to not think the mission’s long done. For some it is just the beginning.

It is a time made for soldiers and architects And painters of words or of life, And crafters of future, And helpers of all that are helpless, And doers, and dreamers, And voices quiet or loud, And sparks. And flames. And then raging fires.

It is time for a beautiful future, Everywhere, not in just one place, But first let us get through today Armed with kindness, and hope, Armed with words that are bold, Armed with a need for truth, Armed with a need for justice, Armed with a need for peace. It is a battle, go choose your weapons.

It is time to stand up and fight. It is time to stand up and fight. It is time to stand up and fight. Let your dreams take the form of a flight And arm yourself with wings.

Don’t be scared of the darkness.

Darkness will fear the light.

~Credit for the line “it is time for soldiers and architects” goes to @surroundedbyselcouth who was so amazing as to let me use it (thank you once again!). The poem is not in my usual style mainly because I wrote it in one go in the middle of the night, straight from my heart to the page. I know that these days are hard for a lot of people, and it hurts to see everything bad going on around the world and not be able to do much. That’s why I want to do what I can, even if it’s just write some words and hope someone will see them and feel what I feel, and maybe do the small or big things they can do.~

[seethenewdaydawn]

As you may have noticed, I made a side blog @hiddenworldsemerging and I would love it if you checked it out or spread the word about it. It’s a compilation of writing prompts (original ones as well), writing resources, mythology and folklore posts. I also post songs from my writing playlist. More interesting things are yet to come 😉

[whispers--in--the--night]

Loving you may give me wings, But I’m still learning how to fly. Icarus fell, what his dream brings Is why I don’t give up, and try.

[seethenewdaydawn]

Courferre Week Day 4 - So Much Pining

One Look

One look is all it takes And I am caught again; Burning love in me awakes, Becomes a deadly bane.

One look at you and my soul sings - A laugh, a cry, a scream; Loving you may give it wings, Yet flight is just a dream.

One look, a single one’s enough To break and heal my heart; I know too well this journey’s rough, Though it was me who chose to start.

One look and I believe once more In ancient tales of fate; But still I ask - what is this for? When should I cease the wait?

And then you slowly turn to me, One look, a moment filled with bliss; My thoughts run wild, still not free, They beg - “A single kiss!”

~Another poem for Courferre Week 2016. It can be from either pov (Courfeyrac or Combeferre). I hope you like it 😊~

[whispers--in--the--night]

Let us stay here for a little longer. The night is falling and darkness will hide us from the ever searching eyes of the world. The stars will turn around as not to uncover us with their traitorous light. For once, they'll have to feel ashamed of looking at our souls and they'll have to bestow on us this fleeting moment of freedom.

S.B

[whispers--in--the--night]

Fear has been the one to hold my hand and guide me through life for years. I can still feel the cold grip of his fingers and the shivers it sends through my body. I can still hear his words - quiet whispers that grow into deafening screams by the time the wind carries them to my ear. I can still see his shadow, standing next to mine at all times. And I can’t help but be afraid that I will never be able to let go and walk on my own.

S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

They come at midnight

Fear Doubt Regret Sadness Loneliness

Thoughts start running wild in all directions And your head gets filled with a myriad of sounds And you feel trapped inside the skin and bones you wear

Can’t sleep Can’t run Can’t hide

You can fight You can fight You can fight

Fight what comes at midnight.

[whispers--in--the--night]

The aftermath of the storm is silence. When you have gotten used to hearing the sound of rain pouring from the dark clouds, hitting your window, gently brushing the leaves of old trees, and meeting the hard ground, the silence that follows is deafening. When you have accepted that the cracks of thunders are a constant in this piece of music, the silence that comes when the orchestra stops playing is hollow and, yet, filled with everything you don't want to hear. When you have finally understood that the howling of the wind is merely a whisper breathed out by nature herself, it's absence in the silence stands out and fills the back of your mind with dread. The aftermath of the storm is silence. But the storm is only the beginning.

S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

Fire shines brighter in darkness than it does in daylight, but that doesn't mean that it's not the same. No matter how it looks from the outside, fire is always fire - ready to warm frozen hearts, burn paper skin or start a revolution, either on its own, or when held in somebody's hands.

[whispers--in--the--night]

The devils come and surround me from all sides, Making no way for the gentle rays of sunlight coming through the cracks of my cage. Horns and tails and distorted faces swirl before my eyes into a suffocating storm And dust and dirt fill my paper lungs. Blood drips from the torches they are lighting up to set my insides on fire. Sharp nails dig into my arms and drag my body into different directions all at once, Tearing flesh and bones. Flames erupt and engulf the underground prison. The music keeps playing, They dance with me as if they won't come back ever again. It's a lie.

A Dance With Devils S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

There are times when the words flow like water - they are rain pouring on every surface of my body and dripping to the ground, only to gather in puddles and slowly start filling the room, drowning me. There are times when they leave me and I can't do anything but stare hopeless at the blank page, the sun drying my skin and ready to set it on fire. Maybe that's their revenge for the ruthlessness with which I use them. Revenge for the blood stains I leave on their shiny surface. Or maybe it's their way of testing if I am worthy enough to touch them with my bare hands and keep them close to my heart for the rest of eternity.

S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

The sun shone today, bathing life with soft sunlight. Clouds gathered around.

S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

I’m not good at math but there’s one thing I know for sure. There is an infinite number of possibilities for the outcome of every little thing we do. And infinite is a really big number. So, who’s to say that what happens to us is not fate?

S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

Some words leave bruises on your skin. Some words barely brush against it before flying away. Her words are different. They creep under your skin and before you’ve even noticed, they have put down their roots and begin to grow, spreading all over your body, entwining round every vein, muscle and bone. They grow until they are big enough to take up all corners of your shell and until they have become incandescent. Then they brand themselves into your mind and soul. Her words are different. They are alive.

Her words —S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

Words are strange, don’t you think? They are made from the same material but can turn out to be so many different things. Ranging from a lullaby to a dagger.

S.B.

[whispers--in--the--night]

A storm inside me trying to destroy these walls; my eyes are closing.

S.B.