Learned thru pain we believe in brightness, as if we haven’t lived in the dark all our lives. The undefeated man lives without disturbance knowing his life is everlasting, while the common man is consumed in flaws and sin. Tears carry weight words can’t and craft new thinking throughout society, but the saddest reality is tears dry quickly leading the norm back to existence. Stay submerged in tears while not trying to live like the undefeated man, instead beat him in his own race until he eventually passes you. At this moment u have won not lost, but striding as hard as u did created a wonderful love throughout your life full of faith. the gates have welcomed a new comer. As others grieve with the common idea of loss you begin the greatest journey of your life so far, no more running the race instead cheer wildly as everyone else tirelessly runs the same race.
About the Creator
Marcus Hill
Words speak louder than anything on earth, Keep writing…. Keep speaking…
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Sinners Remorse
Hiding shame in corners of justification only proves we understand our wrong doings. The ability to move and misplace guilt to make the soul less empty just shows how aware we've always been. Creating standards with the expectation everyone else would abide by but never having intentions of meeting them ourselves showcases our cowardliness. For years the truth was buried inside societal lies told to young men to make their mistakes easier to coupe with. A man who willingly speaks and operates with intentions of unloyalty isn't a man at all, but rather a young boy scared of commitment. For too long the marathon of accountability was never truly complete, so the hurt, disrespect and damage that was spread to each person we encounter is dismissed to make our conscious comfortable. Growth from boy to man is a true process of admission and the only way to sustain that transformation is to conduct yourself within truth, which feels abnormal to a species foreign to vulnerability.
By Marcus Hill9 months ago in Poets
A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli2 days ago in Poets
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