75 ~ A high & mighty price ~

There crashed billow upon billow

Bitter coated news to swallow

An ordinary life was flipped

And DisABILITIES gripped

Others then began drinking sips

Of expensive ink from a nib that dips

Into an ocean formed from droplets

Trickling from 2 viewed outlets

Adopting heartfelt couplets.

An ocean from hushed cries

An ocean from patience excercised

An ocean outspread with sacrifice

An ocean bled for a future paradise

Yearning for the gaze of 1 who is all-wise

Attached to that package is a high & mighty price.

Toil with persistence through rife strife

Amidst turmoil to survive this entity titled life.

Little is it known

Behind every poem

Are episodes & codes

Unquestioned & untold.

Decipher these words specifically chosen

Each containing an ocean of emotions

As she turned into various directions

Having no other option or trepidation

Besides bowing in complete submission

To his compassionate decisions

Despite facing recurrent rejection

& bowled over by utter exhaustion,

Despite dealing with multiple torments

& momentarily expressing laments.

Knowing no matter the degree of dismay

There was, is, & will not be, another way.

Anchoring forward

No dive backwards

For that would impair her resort

Thereby banishing a special shore…

The special shore;

No ordinary mortal saw

No scope for fingers to point a flaw

It’ll leave one staggering in awe…..


“I did, you did, they did”

No one does

Except as the Almighty edicts.

Compositions she didn’t write

The most-merciful set words alight

To him alone is all praise

For every healing phrase

Allowing spirits to raise.

As she wades along the oncoming waves

She discovered a love story that never fades.

When met with a deaf ear

He was always there to hear.

When in the darkness she sank

He sent unique rescue lamps.

When she wanted everything to terminate

He cast no shattered piece into a bin of waste.

When words made her seethe

Or actions caused her to reel

Hands wrapped head to knees

Lungs producing muted screams

When there was no person to intervene

Nor a shoulder to lean, only in dreams

When the wounds seared so deep

Most humans failed to help heal,

Countless times she knocks at his door

Her gaze humbled towards the floor

Salty streams sometimes gushed forth

Confiding about the weight she bore

Until she thought she could do no more

Appealing deliverance from a wearied war

Reserved treasures then began to pour

His answers to her questions slowly roar.

When she exasperatedly sighs

He conveys clear-cut signs.

Letting out to him

Streams peace within

Assists her to begin

& conclude with wins

Undeserving love shown by the exalted king…


So the next time her compositions are read

Think of the limbs that lap “weighing lead”

Without dread, paying extra for what “theysaid

Clutching for breaths

Drowning below fluid depths

Yet swimming with death

Hovering just above her head

Complementing each sentence

Is multitude resemblance


A particular portion of this post is dedicated to a very kind, avid reader, supporter & undiagnosed soldier

Since my life revolves around accounting breaths, this link she wrote below is apt;

https://iamanemerald.wordpress.com/2017/10/10/reality-of-our-حياة-life/

💙💚

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