Masks

Villians hide from all sight each darkened face

With sorrow swirling, teaming twist its cracks

A curling venom seeping through with haste

By slits and holes of tainted, hardened masks

Yet when great evil runs far from pain

There then comes next an even harder task

Sinking gashes still plunging through the veins

Each one farther and deeper than the last

Faint sounds from distant evil rumbling chants

Growing greatly twist ev'ry pounding beat

Tired and trmbling, tears form madened rants

Malevolently striking down the feat

But even when all destruction is done

The masks forever drip with fresh new blood

Now

It's more than wispy wind that wishes
Shadows fleeing from the day
The reptile movements of the stars
It's more.

For once the real world seems more real than life, than air
Pulses of crimson scattering through tissue
The eyes of color undescribable
For once it's more.

At last the rivers scream for flow
Pebbles hurtling beside droplets of crystal
That light, refracting beyond belief
At last, for once it's more.

A tear of silver drops to the ground
Dirt swallowing it up, forever
Sorrow gone, dead

At last, for once it's more than pain.

At Least We Have Love

I just want to share a song I wrote over the past few weeks. It may seem sad, but lots of experiences are sad. However, most, like this one, still have a positive side. I want people, including myself, to realize that there is more to life than the end of it. It is called At Least We Have Love because not only did we have it once, we constantly have it now. Jesus gives it too us, whether we choose to see it and accept it or not. I'm not saying I do, because I totally do not most of the time, I'm just saying it's always there, and will always be there.

At Least We Have Love

You hear that guiter strummin to the beat of your heart

There's there's a map but you don't know where to start

Where'd it all go, when did we go wrong

I'm gettin nowhere

So I'm singing this sad song

[Chorus]

And here we are sittin under this tree

The notes of our lives gonna soon be set free

A sweet setting sun, a star up above

We're fading fast

But at least we have love

I hear those car doors poundin on the bright red paint

A whisper "you don't have too long to wait"

Here they draw close to take you along

I hold your hand tight

And I'm singing this sad song

[Chorus]

When we arrived at that long hallway

I stopped and waited cause you were pulling away

You're in the light but I'm still in the dark

You left forever--

Now it's broken my heart

And so here I am sittin under our tree

The notes of your life are sung and set free

A black stormy night, no more stars up above

You've faded away

But at least we had love

So where does the sun go

When the night sets in

Is the story gone

When all the words end

Why's the song finished

When the notes are all done

Is our love all over

Or has it just begun

[Chorus x2]

Forlorning All Forgotten Light

Two barren trees, distant bland
Stand in solid, hardened ice
Silent shadows lost in sound
Stolen from untimely sight

The ground ‘tis cra’ked
All breath gone, fled
But all one soul
Not live nor dead

One solid line with heightened grooves
Blinded twist the flashing light
A border, battle, bounding blast
All darkness putting up a fight

The glory singing up a storm
Now deafened by the void in ice
Our single soul driving down
Frozen by a sudden vice

With naught but lonely tear that shed
He holds the trees with all his might
Shaking in the sleeting wind
The day now morphing into night

In deathly doom they truly stand
Too frail for any feeble fight
A soul in solid, vacant void
Forlorning all forgotten light

The Purpose of Rivers of Writing

The purpose of this blog is to express my ideas, emotions, thoughts, and experiences through writing, poetryand journals. To spread inspiration through the world I connect with. To make the world think:

"What is MY inspiration?"

My river is not only metaphorical, it is physical. Inspiration is real. You can touch it, taste it, hear it, smell it. You can even see it. My inspiration is Love. God's beautiful, wonderful love, and my quest to find it, grasp it. Some may wonder why on earth that my inspiration would completely contradict my poetry and writings and my life in general. The answer: Because writing with a purpose makes minds wonder. 

My writing is an expression of my soul, no less. It is what I feel, whether at that particular moment or part of my convictions. It is hard for me to write about the love and joy. Hope seems irrelevant most of the time. I cry when I write. Some of my writing has been called depressing and morbid. Well, it is.

Then why is love my inspiration? Is it the love I feel I lack? Sometimes. Is it the love I search for constantly? Maybe. Is it the love I truly believe exists, yet I cast aside with arrogance? Definitely. Why? Because love never leaves. You do. I cry for the lost...