Freddy

I wish I could say the unspeakable,
that I could describe the unseen,
but things that can only be felt
are better left alone.

The last breath of a child,
dozen month hands holding yours.
The gong that clashes, heavy and cold,
ringing agony of his mother in anxious ears.
Cringing at the sound.

I wish there was a language to make you feel what I see,
a dialect to touch your heart.
Love and suffering are only sounds,
unrealistic letters,
attempting to describe things only felt,
things better left alone.





A little over a week ago here at the hospital, I got to help with night care for a little boy who passed. When I came home I could hear his mother crying still. I didn't really know how to describe this, how to feel it out loud, persay. I still don't. I know that no one should have to go through that, any of it. Some terrors of the world you just have to let happen I guess.

Lost the Way

Burned my fingers with a delicate touch,

Yearned to be on the other side.

Learned the value of innocence,

Earned the guilt that decays me inside.

Lost my way on the path once again,

Frost overtook as I sat in the night.

Cost was much greater than I predicted,

Tossed up my sword, surrendered the fight.

Defeat consumed every human remain,

Sheet after sheet of paper to turn.

Neat as could be, the chapter was written,

Beat the idea now, don't let me return.

Hold me tightly, and steady my stand,

Fold the page over, forget the ordeal.

Mold me into who I'm supposed to have been.

Cold turns to warm, and scars left to heal.

This writing style is called a "lento", and was created by Lencio Rodrigues. He is the one composing the book, which is exclusively about the "lento" style.