Remembered

what will I ever be

Remembered for

My name, my words

No that will not survive

No written account will remain

Only the movement

I once learned will

Stay far far in the future

Round trip

Eventually we all

Bounce back to ourselves

Are old personality

Shines through as

Our weaknesses and faults

When the conditions

Gets bad enough

But when we are

There at the bottom

Then what do we do?

The Darkest Hour

Sometimes when everything

Feels hopeless and really is

When the pain is not just

Painful but more unbearable

When the need for hope is as greatest

But not available

Sleep comes a the great

Redeemer and liberator

Purifying the mind and soul

Evaporating the illusion

Of darkness into thin air

Inside us we are always

Infinitely more

Than what we feel and

Experience at this very

Moment

The hope of being me

It is a hard thing
Being me
Whatever this means
On this planet
This lonely place
In the outskirts
Of  the universe
The days are passing
So slowly
The shadows growing by the day
Withering stages of decay
Around me
The birds starts singing
And the spring breaks in.