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There is no hope in this piece

The man looks like he gets no joy from peace

The popes face seems to seep

It is joyless and featureless yet his eyes still creep

To your soul and makes me cringe

So much mutilation that it could cause the worst hearts to constringe

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Many faces all around

Shadows in the dark

Deaths are definitely bound

As scary as a dog's bark

Many dark faces

Hidden in the black

And in the tiniest of spaces

From where one can never come back

This paining displeases me

Simply because of it being scary

And if there was a different sight to see
I would choose a painting of Jesus or Mary

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At night, when I close my eyes, I see them

Masks, covered with dirt

Weapons, covered with blood

Hands, covered with blisters

Who are they?

They come out of the dark

Walking like zombies, ready to pounce

I cant move, I'm paralyzed

They surround me, hold me down

Why can't I scream?

I wake up. Sweating, panting, unable to move

It's just a nightmare, I'm safe and sound

But they look so familiar

And then I remember who they are.

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One I don't like

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The peaceful town sleeps

As the sunset colors seep

The snow sits thick throughout the town

As the mountain's shadow falls down

Amazingly flowing colors the artist applied

To say it's pleasing to the eye can't be denied

Feelings of peace and calm abound

Even though my eye for art isn't profound

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At first, it's manageable

That's why it's called yellow.

Unease is normal, something tolerable:

Racing heartbeats can be mellowed.

Then the green is added,

Enduring this can be perilous

Envy does not exist because it's valid

That's why this stage is reckless.

But red is by far the downfall of it all

Producing yelling and screaming

Rage is equivalent to hitting a stone brick wall

Some find it releaving, but it's in no way redeeming

He succeeded in showing how it works.

When mixing them together, it becomes black

A dark sea, lost in anxiety, jealousy, anger.

But no, he does not stop there.

He mocks us with white:

joys we've failed to grasp.

And he laughs because he knows which colors will win.

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Every Sunday, at the same time, I look out the window

There I see mom and dad strolling through the garden.

Hand in hand, admiring the flowers dad planted

Gazing up at the sky and inhaling the clean, crisp air.

Mom always dreamed of having her own garden

But we never had the money

After mom was diagnosed, her dream became a reality

Dad worked day and night, whatever it took, blood, sweat, and tears

A month later, on her birthday, dad accomplished her dream.

With what strength she had left, she jumped with joy

The look of pure excitement, the warmth of love overcame her

This rarely ever happened at this point in our family.

Mom fought harder than ever through treatments

Miraculously, after a year of fighting

Instead of hearing illness, we heard remission.

And now every Sunday, at the same time, I see them through the window.

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One I like

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Looking at the reflection

Brings about pure bliss

And a true connection

That I'm positive I would miss

The buildings on the side

And the trees on the other

Has a silence one can abide

And peace that can't be brought by another

The peace is something that I love

And the setting brings it out

If there was shown a dove

I couldn't help but shout

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Close your eyes,

breathe deeply

Hear the lapping of water

See the brilliant fall leaves

Feel the crisp, sleeping grass beneath you,

Inhale the natural air.

You feel that?

That ineffable, indescribable sensation

Let me tell you what that is:

serenity.

When you open your eyes

And fail to fully respire.

When you get tangled in that web

And there's no way to unravel

You can always:

Close your eyes,

breathe deeply

Hear the lapping of water

See the brilliant fall leaves

Feel the crisp, sleeping grass beneath you,

Inhale the natural air.

Because while people move on,

And change their minds.

Nature is constant.

Water will greet shores

Leaves will regain their color

And the Grass will always awaken

Sometimes, we forget there is

Strength in simplicity,

And that wave of clarity, of peace,

Is what's worth the breath.