Healing Arms
By Darmok
Healing Armsby Darmok1/11/02I used to think I stood by shear will alone, willing my self not to fall off the thin thread that bore the weight of all my humility and punishment I consumed. The eternity of each step was unbearable. As awesome as Love is, how right it is to seek, to have; its ability to become part of us, become integrated within our pulse....gives it the power to cause us the most pain. Shear will, magic potions and new clothes aren't enough, they won't cover the lesions where your heart has been ripped in two. All one wants, is to be removed from the confines of the body and the mind that becomes our torturers. We beg for silence and dry clothes, as we hear our screams and soak in our tears,desperately shameful of our own weeping. Chest pains, vomit hurling our angst, our stomach’s ache as flesh-eating acid empties us from within. Our minds cave in and isolate us from rational thought, from reality and tunnel vision overwhelms us as we focus on that thin thread straining to bear it all. Thank god we do survive, and not by shear will alone are we saved. God forbid one is friendless and without prayer, there he or she would take a drink of the black sea and find the silence forever.... but the arms and prayers of friends and family do reach out to us even though we are unaware of their presence. A safety net below the thread we walk, to catch us if we fall, to walk again takes our will,to want again and heal.A comment posted to Sprites' poem : 'Sinking, that other me'(thanks for the inspiration of this write) :) Written January 11th, 2002 © on Jan 11 2002 09:22 AM PST, Darmok 0 • 12
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"Healing Armsby Darmok1/11/02I used to think I stood by shear will alone, willing my self not to fall off the thin thread that bore the weight of all my humility and punishment I consumed. The eternity of each step was unbearable. As awesome as Love is, how right it is to seek, to have; its ability to become part of us, become integrated within our pulse....gives it the power to cause us the most pain. Shear will, magic potions and new clothes aren't enough, they won't cover the lesions where your heart has been ripped in two. All one wants, is to be removed from the confines of the body and the mind that becomes our torturers. We beg for silence and dry clothes, as we hear our screams and soak in our tears,desperately shameful of our own weeping. Chest pains, vomit hurling our angst, our stomach’s ache as flesh-eating acid empties us from within. Our minds cave in and isolate us from rational thought, from reality and tunnel vision overwhelms us as we focus on that thin thread straining to bear it all. Thank god we do survive, and not by shear will alone are we saved. God forbid one is friendless and without prayer, there he or she would take a drink of the black sea and find the silence forever.... but the arms and prayers of friends and family do reach out to us even though we are unaware of their presence. A safety net below the thread we walk, to catch us if we fall, to walk again takes our will,to want again and heal.A comment posted to Sprites' poem : 'Sinking, that other me'(thanks for the inspiration of this write) :)..."