Chamber Poetry 11 (Mirror, mirror - The Path 0.5/1.5)
Shared by Sapphire
It starts with the unexpected loss of something dear
The warmth that comforted and cradled just disappears
And in its place, there's nothing, just an endless empty hole
The light that shown the way is gone and darkness takes control
Bitterness and anger are quick to fill the void
The path to isolation is littered with the dreams that lay destroyed
The cold seems to grow in my soul, it's consuming me
Confused, am I losing myself in a storm?
Being pushed, being pulled, I'm unraveling
Can't find myself when I'm constantly forced to conform
Enemies surround me, but the worst appear as friends
Liars and pretenders, only seek to reach their ends
Everything is breaking right before my eyes
Looking in the mirror, I see someone that I don't recognize
Mirror, what's this thing I see?
Who is staring back at me?
This stranger to my heart that's filled my life
Mirror help me, who am I?
Chamber Poetry 11- Circle by Wingmakers
I have found the ancient mirror
that leads me.
I have seen its ruthless eyes
that always stare,
burrowing their way to the crown I wear.
I have sensed the holy fire
like a blazing cocoon
that offers no judgments
amidst its power strewn.
I have felt the innocent light.
Of clarity in flight over native land
where we are birthed apart
from one command.
I have touched the gentle eye
that outlasts me.
The huge patience upon my brow.
I have offered all my earthly wisdom
for the symptoms of its tongue;
to drop its seeds into the fields that I plow.
I have seen destiny’s path
gathering its flock
for the journey of endless spaces.
I have watched futures fall with eyelids closed
and the gnawing tears of torn places.
I have seen the Tribe of Light
return the clock to the black pocket
where all divisions occur.
Where weeds secure the humble land
of fires unlit, yet pure.
I have heard the masters of masters speak
to every cell of my body;
cutting new pathways in flesh
like fear’s executioner.
I have watched the galaxies twirl
like star wheels that spiral to the thought
of a holy vision.
I have felt my spirit follow
the one sound that is free.
I have vanished before.
I have taken this body to an inner place
where none can see.
Only feelings can hear the sound of this space.
This sacred place alone
has brought me here to recover the thread.
To see the weaving dance that calls my name
in a thousand sounds.
That draws my spirit
in a single, perfectly round,