weight of sullen sadness

weight of sullen sadness

the gripping weight of sullen sadness, pulls like gravity, to the ground

heavy feelings fraught with anger grab the soul and keep it bound

gnawing numbness throbs unceasing, like infected, scabbed wound

painful pleasures taut with danger tease a soul that's been marooned

pounding temples hurt, swollen, like a ripe, round melon, bound to burst

scattered thinking, thoughts unblinking, feeds the soul's incessant thirst

gloating guilt goads heart, imploding, like black hole feeding deep in space

emotion's jumble pounds and rumbles, agitates a soul that's stuck in place

mocking murmur, memories turgid, like cackling crow's cacophony

laughing harpies harangue, relentless, provokes no soul's empathy

lumbering limbs, long for action, like the Tin Man, stolid, rusted fast

frozen members, ache for movement, sculpted soul, immobile ghast

A Long

Image by: sylvain.collet via flickr

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Someone asked, "What would your life be without color?" I answered, "My life would be pallid and pale without color. Each day would be drab, dreary and dismal. There'd be no primary colors, no rainbows, no yellow sunshine, no red-blue-yellow sunsets and no white clouds. No white snow or black storm clouds. I'd walk in an indistinct and neutral existence. No green trees, no green grass, no blue seas, no blue skies, would leave me cheerless and dry. My face would not turn red with anger or embarrassment. My face would not turn white with fear or pain. I'd not grow green with envy. Nothing would be just black and white. My life would be full of motionless emotion, if there were no color. © 2013 ajwrites57 Image URI: http://mrg.bz/fwDYZp Image URI: http://mrg.bz/g6haeq By Hairysuncold Please find my other writings on Hub...

old friends

old friends searched online for former friends surprised to see untimely ends friends, their spouses, moms and dads sad to see the deaths they had the inexorable tick and tock of time, leads us all to fields, sublime through twisting, turning hands of fate, soon we'll all be known as "late" years roll on, time is passed no one knows how long it lasts each life is counted out by days as friends we oft go separate ways friend's faces show the lines of age as each one turns his separate page fools fleeting time waits for no man eighty years our lives may span so count your days with special care for who knows how, who knows where our beating hearts will one day stop find old friends before they drop © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image adapted: By SDRandCo via morguefile.com

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