Fortress thoughts

By: Garrison Parrish on February 9, 2012 And when the shadows break through my window my eyes will pierce into the darkness. I will outlast this onslaught. I will embrace it as before. It is my darkness. It is my comfort- It calms me. The thunder soothes my weary soul. The lines of light drawn so hastily in the sky embolden me. I am alone- I do not fear it. I am strong in my weakness. I take this storm and cling to it as reunited loved ones long lost to each other so desperately cling. Thunder lingers yet a moment longer by my ear, and whispers sweet nothings to ease my mind. The day is desolation to me, and the night torture. It is my darkness. It is my comfort- It calms me. I will embrace it as before. I will outlast it. And when the shadows break through my window my eyes will pierce into the darkness.

By: Garrison Parrish February 6, 2012 I gather my thoughts and then- i am strong I muster the ranks of my inner throng I fight this war from past and present You may kill me, but here's what's unpleasant my last breath- will make you a peasant I fight this war from past and present I muster the ranks of my inner throng I gather my thoughts and then- i am strong

By: Garrison Parrish February 6, 2012 blow for blow, no not me you may hit so willingly but I retain my meekness my strength- controlled sleekness I will not show emotion burying e'en the notion and heal without lotion or die from the potion you may hit so willingly blow for blow, no not me

I Know In truth betwixt the midst of all I be, Tis there that God doth hide his love for me. He knows the taste of pain in depths of love, As I suffer with that which is my cove. Conceives for me a plan to write of birth, His book of life for all who pass on earth. He Tries, He tears, and still I take His way. For this I know makes whom shall be today. The tale of pain, of fear, regrets, and death, I take what feels to be that last, short breath. He shows his care and dares to be my guide, Though I should seal my life from Him in pride. My path from me is hid within my dues. He says, I know the plans I have for you.

Lost in the memoirs of the mind Sinking into the darkness Attempting escape In the shadow of the wings Of the fallen angels breathe- Breathe a stinging, stale air. Reality is no ease, and numbness-the sanctuary. Lost in the memoirs of the mind

My Sight And soft doth lie her swollen body dear, Within a cask most fit to see, to near. Each soul doth grieve, doth cheer, doth smile, doth tear. Her life, her love, hath gone, but still and here. A loss most deep, most hard must I endure, Or seek, or find, or know a keep so sure That all the world could find not me a lure? For all that is, will be soon naught as were. But thou pay heed, and now behold off there A place most high, most strong, most fine and fair. No depth, nor dark. No place of dire, nor lair. No night to hide the beauty of her white. Just one with whom she sits who makes all light. And this some see, and this shall be, my sight. On the occasion of my grandmother’s death.

A lonely table A notebook Words written down there A poem of rhyme A wind through the trees A lonely breeze Pages flutter Night has come.