Welcome to my house,
My palace,
Of words,
They float,
And dance,
Just mere words,
For a moment,
Before I spin them,
Into what you desire,
Tell me,
Do you desire a poem or prose?
A tale of woe and grief?
Something more light hearted?
Tell me,
And I will,
Grant your wish,
No matter how complex,
No matter how far-fetched,
For words,
Have been my domain,
For longer than I can remember,
Ever spinning,
Ever circling,
Until I weave them,
At my fingertips,
And create,
Small fragments,
That create,
A small blot,
On the page of life,
You could say,
I am there master,
But I prefer,
To be called,
The Weaver

We watch,
The red sun rise,
War is coming,
We’ve to be prepared,
For something,
That might not even,
Be true,
Yet,
Fear grips us,
As we stare,
Uncertain,
Heads bowed,
To our phone screens,
Watching the news,
Waiting,
For an end,
For a call,
There’s already,
So much war,
What’s another,
As we fear,
As we are on our knees,
In chains,
To the overlord’s,
Above us,
They will not give us,
Mercy,
Even if we pray,
We are slaves,
In a world,
That wants divide,
In a world,
Where the facts,
Aren’t so black and white,
So,
We stare at the sun,
Watching the horizon,
As a shadow is cast,
And we can do nothing

!Trigger warning ahead! Please read at your own discretion

White petals,
Fall the sky,
Stained,
With blood,
That will never dry,
White roses,
Now stained,
Red,
Fall onto the ground,
Over 700 dead,
Their lives taken,
By their own hand,
Because they saw,
No other way,
Because of the choices,
That are being made,
By one man,
Of power and greed,
700 women,
Took their lives,
And it will not be in vain,
We will honour them,
Our sisters,
Our daughters,
Our granddaughters,
We will keep,
Fighting in the cruel,
World of pain,
We will remember,
Them and their names,
For how is the normal,
How can we stand by,
And stay silent,
As our choices,
Are stripped away,
As our rights are taken,
By corruption and malice,
We must fight,
Despite being scared,
We must be strong,
Despite knowing,
It might all go wrong,
We must continue,
So no more lives,
Have to be taken,
We must stand against,
This evil,
We must untie,
Under one banner,
Under one name,
Under the falling petals,
From the sky

Misery,

And pain,

That is the world,

I live in,

Constantly,

Fibromyalgia,

Is to blame,

It feels like,

A constant,

Pounding,

All over,

My body,

Which makes,

Me extremely,

Fatigued,

Sensitive to pain,

And even sensitive,

To other people’s touch,

My whole,

Body,

Can feel stiff,

To move,

Which,

Makes,

Sleep difficult,

I can get,

Burning sensations,

I can’t regulate,

My body temperature,

Like everyone else,

Living,

With this,

Has caused mental health,

Problems,

Mainly depression,

The fibro-fog,

Is the worse,

I suddenly forget,

What I was doing,

Or why I was going,

To the shop,

I can’t concentrate,

On most things,

I can experience,

Headaches,

For me,

It’s caused dietary,

Issues,

But others,

Can experience,

IBS,

The flare-ups,

Cause,

Everything,

To hurt,

Twice,

Maybe even,

A hundred,

Times worse,

Than before,

Which,

Can leave,

Me bed bound,

For days,

Maybe weeks,

At a time,

There,

Is no cure,

For this misery,

But there are treatments,

To help,

And maybe,

Relieve,

Some of the symptoms,

Such as antidepressants,

Painkillers,

Even counselling,

Exercise,

Can help,

But I can’t always,

Manage it,

Sometimes,

I even push,

Myself too far,

And I end up,

Being back,

In pain,

One day,

I hope,

There will be a cure,

Or something,

That can take this,

Misery,

Away,

Forever