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Poem: "Trust me, it gets better. Sooner than later. Just chant to yourself – Never lose heart."
“Never lose heart. Soak some sun onto your skin to feel better. Try some heartfelt pillow whispers to smile better. Slurp onto some hot chocolate to sleep better. Trust me, it gets better. Sooner than later. Just chant to yourself – Never lose heart.”
Sail through the journey of darkest nights with faith, until you witness the first golden rays. Enjoy the process of seeing through the gloomy days. Feel the sadness walking away from you.
Listen to the merry chirping, marching towards you and spreading warmth in your veins. Feel the dark circles lighten. Feel the moist below the eyes evaporate with the smoke of coffee.
I can feel the cherry blossoms,
And golden sunrise.
I can feel it.
The grey clouds are turning silver,
The sky is glowing in magnificent blues.
My sight is free of haze,
And so are my visions.
I feel lighter,
As I unload the weights
Of rejections,
Of imperfections,
Of relentless reflections.
I give no heed
To circling pointless tales.
The tedious whimpers
Have gone cold, too.
I feel free.
The tangles lay lifeless on the floor.
I don’t pity them much.
The lightening doesn’t overwhelm;
The winds are calm now.
Haven’t heard any rumbling in a while.
The silence doesn’t scare off,
The breathing isn’t shallow any more.
It’s a strange feeling,
I sense approaching.
I hear the toes tapping.
The feeling
of happiness,
is here.
I feel it more often now.
I feel an alien ferrying some cheer,
spreading its wings inside me.
Like the faint music soothing from remote land.
My heart fills with hope,
With bubbles of joy floating in the air.
With faint glow of candles
Scented lavender and rose.
The walls, the corners of my heart
Are warmer now;
Are brighter now.
I feel like twirling,
Like swaying,
Like singing.
I feel happy.
The forsaken mate has returned.
Amends have been made.
The moist shall not dampen my spirits,
I wear fabrics of sunshine.
The cold shall not make me shiver,
I carry the fire in me.
Episodes of wailing of whining
Have ended.
Spirits seem to rise up and up,
Eyes carry a glint, a smile always.
The heart sings of merry,
Every other day.
Image source: Shell Ghost Cottage via Pixabat, free and edited on CanvaPro
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