SILENT SCREAMS WRITTEN UPON INK SOILED PAPER, THIS IS…

SILENT SCREAM

by LIMITLESS

Look at me!

don’t just see words on a page

these aren’t just letters that run swift

they’re a brief scope inside of a heart that sits

at times

troubled to be

too see, the reason it beats

soul rides to see if heart will peak or be overrun pulsing with a steady hum

won many battles, however, still engaged in some

needing, hoping,

speaking written heart-beats pouring soul liquid spilling abstract as you look to see hearing

Me

feeling every emotion these letters soak in

WHY CAN’T I SAY WHAT NEEDS TO BE SAID

holding all this in feeling broken and dead

my only release is through a pen, key-pad, or pencil

realizing at the end

this battle is all mental–

can you read me now?….

There is a place in the absence of sound where we are met with a most peculiar opportunity for self evaluation & self discovery. This is…

Moments of Silence
by Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

A moment of silence the calm before the storm, the space between abstract & norm, the void betwixt the breaths of anxieties pulse, the lull in time & space where the whispers of the sub-conscience congregate. A moment of silence taken to grieve; A moment to ponder on what one believes. The place where God holds the courts of truth, the moment where one reflex on the time as a youth.

A moment of silence a moment of peace the moment where all cares fall as an autumn leaf. A moment in the beauty of harmonious serenity; the place where one finds an undefined ability to overcome all odds.

A moment when one takes time to search the depths of the soul. The silent moments where inspiration voices its commands bringing life to plan. A moment of silence where tears are gathered in memories time capsule, emotions boxed in silent castles, refusing to be announced.

It is said that “silence is golden”, if that be the case, let us take a moment to discover the many treasures Silence is holden….

Once we where in the bonds of a guilty conscience, once our past sin’s choked any hope of freedom: But now our way of escape has come; (Rom 8:1) There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.

Prison of Vanity

by Edward Taylor III

I had a dream I was crashing into moments, blinded by the glare of memories;

Misdirected missteps led me to a void of emptiness,

In this, existed dreams which became toys of affectionate wishes.

Here – vision groaned for an exorcism out of vanities prison, with bloody finger nails creativity clawed at the wall of deceptive reality,

Painful memories & fearful moments bind the mind leaving it blind, Subdued by consistent doses of disappointment,

Until original purpose & intent became merely faint voices in the distant wind;

Here dominant are the figments of the imagination, which offer fragments of dis-eases…

A sudden shout grips my ear,

“WAKE-UP!”

“Grab my hand & I’ll lead you out!”

Grace grips my hand resurrecting hope, faith opens the prison gates, my footsteps pound the past I swiftly forsake,

As I exit through the gates of condemnation the mark of bondage is suddenly erased by one word forgiven…

I had a dream I was living in purpose, a King drinking from the fountain of life, having escaped the corruption of memory, free from the bondage of who I used to be…