Mary and the Dark Mother

i_no_longer_see_this_painful_world_by_nataliadrepina_dcr0n0c-fullview (1)

SUICIDE WARNING: “‘Come lay with the Dark Mother, her coldness is the warmth you seek’—a poem making visible how depression seduces as a loving voice offering peace through death.”

___________________________________________________________

Come and visit the Dark Mother, Mary,

she is the only one who truly loves you

Her pure wisdom has always been there,

to you and only you, she will always be true

___________________________________________________________

Come embrace the Dark Mother, Mary,

in her lap, you are going to find lasting peace

Her love will make you whole once again,

it will mend each crack, it will join each piece

___________________________________________________________

Come and bow to the Dark Mother, Mary,

and she will tell you, it’s useless to go on

Her hand caressing your tired and bent head,

and she will whisper, ‘there is no true dawn’

___________________________________________________________

Come seek the Dark Mother’s counsel, Mary,

and she will differentiate love from courtesy

Her logic is immaculate and unquestionable,

when she tells you love is not real, but a fallacy

___________________________________________________________

Come hear the Dark Mother’s prophecy, Mary,

when she tells you, ‘you are doomed forever’

But don’t lose hope, all may seem grey and dark,

her solutions are always simple, never clever

___________________________________________________________

Come and listen to the Dark Mother, Mary,

when she tells you, it is your time to sleep

Her words are the writing on the wall,

when she tells you not to cry and weep

___________________________________________________________

Come lay with the dark mother, Mary,

her coldness is the very warmth you seek

Surrender yourself and take the final step,

just forget that you were once a freak

___________________________________________________________

Come and follow the Dark Mother, Mary,

be assured, she always knows the right way

Bringing sanity to this damn circus of chaos,

she’s the peaceful night at the end of your day

___________________________________________________________

Come do what the dark mother says, Mary,

sleep is just a small, harmless bullet away

Just please cross the threshold, Mary,

salvation is only just a steel’s kiss away

The Inevitability of Sorrow (Previosuly, Seeds of Happiness and Fruits of Sorrow)

What if happiness is only the beginning of sorrow?

____________________________

All those who cultivate seeds of happiness,

will one day surely, eat the bitter fruit of sorrow

It’s your destiny, and your legacy, my dear child,

just follow your past, don’t seek a new tomorrow

____________________________

All those who know how to love and how to care,

will one day surely meet a sad and lonely end

It’s bound to happen, oh please don’t weep or cry,

it’s not something broken that you can readily mend

____________________________

All those who dance, and who laugh clear and loud,

will one day surely shed the bitter tears of loss

It’s the rule, my friend, you can’t run and fight,

you always pay the price, you always bear the cross

_________________________

All those who forgive and carry no black grudge,

will one day mourn the loss of their own hearts

You can’t keep on giving, giving more and some more,

there’re always expectations, even when hope departs

____________________________

Those who plan and cater for all possible regrets,

will certainly be the most regretful of all in the end

Regrets are the fires that keep the memories warm,

without regrets, there’s only coldness, you can’t tend

The Custodian of Unfulfilled Dreams

broken_dreams_by_spacewizzard666_dd2e8pd-fullview

A kingdom where broken dreams go to die—and a king who refuses to abandon them.

_______________________

Far away from all this filth and all this stinking mold,

there is a secret and silent realm of unfulfilled dreams

The realm is colorless, neither silver nor purple nor gold,

no laughter or singing, just a chaos of cries and screams

_______________________

Each dream, once it’s shattered, and in pain it cries,

it enters the realm, hearing some command unspoken

The horn of time does not blow; it is silent and so wise,

as the dreams lay trampled, crying and utterly broken

_______________________

There he sits at the gate, the old and tattered King,

the sad custodian of dreams, he protects and lovingly guards

He has neither a throne, nor a seal, nor a royal ring,

he wears only a crown of thorns and sharp glass shards

_______________________

The dreams are his children, a few are even his very own,

he cradles their delicate heads and lovingly treats their sores

Some dreams have broken wings, and some have never flown,

yet he loves them all, whether they are his own, mine, or yours

_______________________

The King has tears in his eyes; he cries over the wounded dreams,

he knows they are going to finally die, his efforts are all in vain

The dreams whimper as life bleeds out, in rivulets and in streams,

the King knows they are the last drops of a rare desert rain

_______________________

Each dream, when it breathes its very last and silently dies,

he gently kisses its dead eyes, singing the last lullaby

The King is sad, oh, he is so very sad, but still he desperately tries,

caring for dreams, without asking ‘to what end’ or even a ‘why’

When Love is the Last Illusion (Previously, the White Dove of Hope)

Condemned by fate, and mocked by hope, until one dangerous word appears – love.

_________________________

Oh, you sad children of a time so evil and dark,

you are all the product of undesirable circumstances.

Your love always went stale before it could spark,

though you availed all the emerging chances

_________________________

You were the anomaly in the grand scheme;

you should have been smothered when born

Sadly, the plan remained only a dream;

though conceived by the Devil with open scorn

_________________________

You knew while you grew, you had no roots;

you were the useless moss clinging to a boulder

You had no character, no faith, and no attributes,

yet the burdens of life, you carried on your shoulder

_________________________

But you all survived, and yet you go on living;

for what purpose, may I ask in all sincerity

When both fate and life are so unforgiving,

your sustained survival becomes a vulgarity

_________________________

Desist! I suggest, or surrender, I would advise;

nothing will help you persist or even grow

Throw the cards down; please be a little wise,

just cease all efforts and go with the flow

_________________________

What did you just say? Do I hear the word ‘love’?

Yes, perhaps, love is the only solace you may ever find

It is your golden butterfly, a beautiful white dove,

in a world filled with hatred, this word sounds so kind

_________________________

Go on then, caress its warmth while you can,

till the white dove forsakes and abandons you

You will be all done with life; there is no other plan,

nothing else over the horizon for you to view

Love in the Times of Hatred

d1cnkh-bf3b61c5-5957-435e-8618-73b7f633d5d3

Life punches us in the gut with ‘fuck yous,’ hatred cuts us with a million sharp blades—but still we carry on, still we walk, and still we believe in love’s grand power.


Each time that we try to hope,

and each time that we dare to dream

Each time that we hold a rope,

and each time we desire to scream

Life just offers one big ‘fuck you!’,

and punches us right in the gut

Life just throws one big ‘damn you!’,

and treats us like a disowned mutt

________________________________________________

Still we carry on, and still we walk,

believing in love and its grand power

Still we hurry on and still we talk,

while hope burns on a distant, high tower

We place our faith in caring and affection,

but there is one thing that we forget

We put aside any fears of rejection,

but there still exists a dark, deadly threat

________________________________________________

Hatred, that’s what it is called by you and all,

it waits in the darkness, all shadowy and black

Loathing is a terrible ghost that lurks in the hall,

while patience and silence stand back to back

It sneers with an ugly, yellow satisfaction,

and cuts us with a million sharp blades

It fears no revenge and never any reaction,

our blood flows freely and in all shades

________________________________________________

It doesn’t care for affection or for even love,

devastating us and all that we ever possess

It favors only chaos and not a white dove,

leaving behind ashes and just a terrible mess

But still we breathe and still we dream,

believing in the power of love and what it can do

Our hope keeps smiling and riding a sunbeam,

choosing to ignore all, hatred, and loathing too