This is Winter in Turmoil

by Daniel   Nov 11, 2018

we will never run out of
writing for the things
we have lost;

our story is unfulfilled,
set apart from those who
love in sentience,

dreaming serves
no purpose no longer,
and what purpose do we
have now?

(other than to love
and be loved, and
never in tandem)

we removed each other’s
wings one evening,
and wondered why we
couldn’t fly.


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Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Brenda

    Amazing and thought provoking on the human psyche.

  • 1 year ago

    by Ya----Na

    Completely agree with MA, the flow is magical

  • 1 year ago

    by Paul Hirst

    Lovely and sad especially the last verse
    Well written

  • 1 year ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    Love the flow of this and the thought-provoking way in which you write. I've always felt like you have a distinct voice and you know how to put those thoughts onto paper. "the things we have lost"... that can be an endless quantity to people. Whether it's something or someone physical or just a feeling, a memory, a moment. So much of our life is fleeting and perhaps we write to keep some sort of memorabilia for all that escaped or left us. When you mentioned how dreaming no longer serves a purpose, it read like a subtle call to action. We can have these hopes and visions and hold them close, but if we don't push forward and encourage them, what will become of them? The mention of loving and being loved, though never in tandem, is interesting because so often (at least that I have found) we strive for both. But there's hardly ever a balance. The journey of self love and acceptance can battle with our opportunity and desire to give a love that we sacrifice, a love that should start from within and work outwards. The last stanza feels personal and almost feels to me like the times we lose hope in one another. We neglect to be that extra support or inspiration that others yearn for.

    As always, you say so much in each line and I'm so happy you're back!

    • 1 year ago

      by Daniel

      Thank you so much for the detailed critique. :) to be honest, I wrote the final stanza first and everything else is a precursor to that. It’s simply about some of the futulities of love; the struggles we all face, the striving to always be receiving and giving love in tandem.

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