Static images of times past freeze into the retinas of longing and regret. It whispers softly with a shrieking scream of remorse across the ear drums of indefinite doubt and longing. Trickling down the outstretched finger tips like a raging river of despair that slowly sinks below the tides of lost hope. The souls of the damned bleed in a deafening chorus that cascades over the hill tops of broken dreams plateauing into the scattered moires of what once was and what will never be again. And with the clattering thunder spraying across the skies the rage swells an subsides and rises again until there is nothing left but a shock wave of silence drifting through the halls of though and in the door ways of progress. The tiny footsteps tip toe over the broken lungs and hearts of the boiling tears evaporates into a tingling numbness that tickles the ears and throat and dries those swollen eyes. The seas go still, lapping against the sands of recovery and the light that leads to the discovery of forgiveness begins to dance across that rolling yet splattered canvas. It waits, and beats and pulses in the anticipation of a new beginning.. And the sea waits. Steadfast and sure.
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About Me
- J.L. Copeland
- I have been writing for years, but never knew that I was a writer. The expression itself was and has always been such a personal adventure that it never crossed my mind to allow others to partake in my work. I still don't call myself a writer or a poet, those titles go to the published or established, but I hope to obtain such entitlement in the very near future. But over all, I hope that I can spark some sort of discussion. Whether it's about my work and the emotions or thoughts that it has provoked, or even just about how pitful and weak my writing just might be. Either way, it is discussion and forcing some kind of thought! I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to email me at jlcope77@yahoo.com for any reason. Enjoy.
