When the world falls apart into the wilderness I shall depart
My heart broken into shards
When my dreams are smashed and my hopes are dashed
I shall become numb
When lives that I love are stolen and lost
If I survive that holocaust
My life will be irreparable
When I wander in a daze, through fields that were once maize
I shall look into my past and see that it is irreparable
Shadowed by the dust of fallen men, women and children
Because of lascivious greed and fame
Powerful men, insane
Irreparable damage they skein
Can we build civilisation again?
Or is it all…
I hold the moon and billions of suns in my hands, I love their endless glowing.
They shine gold and silver and blue and red and white and everything is on a wing, floating in my hands
And only I can hear them sing
I am veiled in midnight blue; I hold these wonders in my hands
I whisper life to everything, it is I who commands
I drift off gently in my sleep, careful not to drop them
My beautiful little jewels of life
I each day attend
The world is but a fragile sphere floating in the endless black sea of space
More fragile than the thinnest glass when it has been knocked out of place
Yet within this fragile sphere of ours, we are set spinning into space
With no inclination of how we float, we just do and in such grace
Every mortal life is precious
Every mortal life unique
Every mortal life is special and their life’s end is always bleak
Yet we keep on spinning, in the airless space
We keep on turning with such gentle grace
And we keep on believing
That we know nothing of what we are
Yet we keep on invading
Shouting truth to justify our war
And we sometimes die for nothing
But some they die in just
And some they keep on believing
Because they simply must
That there is meaning to all of this
This fragility in which we live
But no one has an answer
No one has one to give
So we keep on spinning, up there in the blackened space
We keep on hoping that our life will not be erased
And we keep on dreaming of things we do not understand
And we keep on searching, because that’s the way of man
I am floundering in a world that’s diverse
But the diversity is a mess
People hate each other even at their best
No one realises that they are the same
No one sees the similarities
It hurts my brain
I know religions and I study them all well
I follow none, on me; they do not cast their spell
But many are enchanted by their promises and their hopes
But I do not follow them; I see it worse than dope
And many do attack me, for my flimsy and secular ways
They think I don’t believe in god and that he creates
But I do, but I won’t name god and I won’t give him a sex
I do not know if they are male or female and I don’t know if our behaviour they even check
Do they care about our ways, whether we are good or if we’re bad?
Do they think there’s a code to life we must follow to be glad?
I don’t know and neither do you, so why do you follow texts?
Texts that are written by other men to control their nations via pretext
Oh I see the spell that you are under
I see it all too clear
But to tell you all, you won’t have it
At me you will snipe and jeer
Yet you will kill for your god and your ways
Though your texts they tell you don’t
You do so anyway because…?
You know not do you? You don’t!
So tell me why you’re so enchanted, when religion causes war?
When your own texts tell you not to and you do so because the law…
Why do you stand for murder when your beliefs are threatened so?
Why do you argue with your brother because he is different? Lo…
Can’t you see the mess you’re in? Can’t you see the spell?
Can’t you see it’s not just you, but other beliefs as well?
It is better not to label oneself, for the good of all mankind
It is better to live together in peace, be good and happy and kind
Keep away from the toxic faiths that turn you from other men
Turn away from those paths and then…
You will see such happy times, of peace and love and compassion
You will know then what heaven is, if you forget your violent passions
You cannot be a good spirit, if your heart is full of hate
You need to think another way, do not be afraid to cross that gate
I think you will see it is a blessed life, when you turn your hate into love
I think this is what you need to do to follow the path of the dove
NaNoWriMo has kicked off today and I am on a roll! I have so far written 2148 words towards my daily goal, my daily goal has been 1670 words. So WOO!
I have chosen to write a fantasy story based around a teenage girl who discovers another world. I leave the rest to your imagination.
Plain and pure
White not black
Light not dark
Life is stark
I cannot wait
For this endless fate
To trip away
Or fade and flay
I cannot keep it this way
I am mortal and I say nay
To pain, to suffering, to hunger and fear
I cannot just tolerate and sit here
I am more than just flesh and blood
For so many years this life I’ve trudged
I cannot wander anymore
I cannot wait to see what’s in store
I need to go
Out of this world
I need release
I need the dream-world
copyright Tina Cousins FantasyFed 2016
The cloud rises, twists and twirls around the forbidden mortal world
Hues of blue and grey and white forbids the passage to their sight
Unseen we are the hidden ones, forbidden to enter, forbidden to come
No one knows we are here, their cries of sadness we often hear
Forbidden to answer their prayers and cries
Forbidden to help them, unless they die
We cannot go to take their pain, we can only watch and hear in vain
We cannot cross through their gate
We can only watch their terrible fate
We are the gods they pray will come
But it’s not our world, it is not our sun
We cannot control what goes on there
Only guide them to the heavenly stair
We are forbidden to touch and be, where the mortals live and breath
We are the watchers of their endless plight
The protectors of eternal light
We are your warriors we are your knights
We tuck you into dreamtime at night
We are not evil, we are not cruel
It is not our place to rule mortals
We aren’t heartless, we aren’t depraved
We are there and ready to save
You are mortals and we are not
We are the ones that you’ve forgot
We are tender and we are true
And we’ll always be there for you
But we cannot enter through the mortal gate
We can only watch your fate
And lend a hand to the path of death
At the time of your last breath
So carefully we will take your hand
And take you to our immortal lands
Where life has set you free to be
Another watcher like me
copyright 2016 Tina Cousins
I had a conversation with a tree today.
The tree told me about the deforestation that his friends were experiencing in some parts of the forest.
He told me that this didn’t bother him much, you see, you have to see the positives of life; that even in death, there is everlastingness.
I asked him what he meant and he explained that nothing that dies is wasted, not truly. Even in death you have your uses, you are needed, and you still exist.
I asked about spirits and reincarnation to him, but he simply replied, perhaps, but there is more to it than that.
Take me, for instance, said the tree. When the woodcutters come to claim my life, I may still have my roots to keep me alive, but if that isn’t to be the case, you must think. What do the woodcutters make from me? Wood to burn to enhance their life for a few hours so they do not freeze to death in winter? Then I become ashes and what becomes of those ashes? Those ashes are still a part of the wonderful circle of life; I become potash for various floras, bringing life into this world, simply by my dying.
I sat fascinated and watched the wind rustle his leaves, too in awe to speak.
The tree continued on with his explanation, with patience and love. I am made into paper, for your journal, enriching the lives of humans by whatever the pages contain within, a store of knowledge, a canvas for art, a visual guide to places you may never have a chance to go to if it weren’t for me.
If not a book then shelves to put them on or I might become the chair that you sit in to read those books, or the bed that you lie in to dream about those books and art pieces.
I may become part of the tools that cut my friends down, giving them a new lease of life and usefulness.
When I am gone and I am cut down, homes may be built in place of where I stood. Perhaps farms will develop here and feed the world? Or perhaps my offspring will grow in my place?
Death is not the end, but it is the beginning of new things.
As to the subject raised earlier, yes, I do believe in spirit and I believe that with the spirit of nature everything is eternal; it just depends on your perception of it; of course, most people’s perceptions about it are wrong.
They cloud themselves up in the dark negativity of everything, which they don’t allow themselves to see the light and what a positive thing it can be.
I thanked the tree for his insight and went home to write this for you.