Impossible feats

The impossible feats the we overcome,
Beat down the doors with the sound of their drums.
Overwhelmed by life but lost in the stars,
We reach,
We sigh,
And with that they're gone.

A Mantra to Inspire Achievement

The inspiration for living,
Comes from so many things.
Moments so beautiful they almost hurt,
Kisses so passionate that they overwhelm,
Something so simple, yet faultless in its impact.

As you lay on your bed,
Barely sleeping from the stresses of life,
It helps to reach inside yourself and find your goals,
Challenge yourself a little bit each day,
Look deep inside, realise you can be all you want to be.

Searching the soul for dreams is the start,
But the real magic comes in the achievement,
As you look to the stars and take a step forward,
Followed by a hundred more to take you there,
Be proud of these moments, as you are living your dreams.

No one wants to wake up at 80,
With a life crammed with deep regrets,
Seize each moment, each opportunity,
Let the momentum drive you to the limits,
And surprise yourself with the strength of who you really are.

Wisp in the Wind Contest Entry - You Are My Everything

So I'm giving the poetry contests at allpoetry.com a go, which seem quite good fun =)  Below is my entry to the contest hosted by Donna Grimes aka BluRosePoet8488 (http://allpoetry.com/contest/2506063).  The task being to write a poem inspired by her words:

'I could write a thousand words upon a thousand more and never really touch the depth of the love I feel inside for you. I can only capture a small wisp in the wind to whisper to your heart... I love you!' 
~Donna Sue Grimes~

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Wind whips across my tearful face,

As I stand in the freezing, pouring rain.
Torrents glancing off my sodden clothes
And running down my dripping hair.
Overwhelming,
The intense shaking rips at my soul,
But it could not compare to losing you.

The burning sun sears my face,
As the dry, desert heat creeps inside.
Tearing the moisture from my dry eyes,
Filling my aching lungs with sand.
I can't breathe,
As the pounding in my head closes in,
But it could not compare to losing you.

Icy cold chills my every being,
Muscles tearing as they fight the freeze.
Frozen crystals forming on my cheeks,
Lips too blue to be able to speak.
Agonising,
The painful frost within my limbs,
But it could not compare to losing you.

For all the trials the world could give,
Impossible feats over venomous scars,
This love that words cannot describe,
Would conquer every time.
Invincible,
You make my soul so bright,
How I wish you could see the glow.

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The Ticking Clock in the Dusty Room

Inspired by the photo prompt at Magpie Tales

Lying in a hollow room, the musty smell of years gone by creeps over the pealing walls.  Dust, layered deep into the floor curls like a fires plume with each breath.  Ever inch of this place oozes a sense of death, except for the calm, rhythmic ticking of the old grandfather clock.

Muted, wooded thuds as it beats the drums to the gates of hell, or whatever this place might be.  Reaching upwards, the blood starts pounding in his head, incredible pain, almost overwhelming him.  Flickering vision, eyes as though they might burst from his head.  Desperately fighting the swelling sickness, he tries again to reach for the chair.

The rough, silken dusted surface tries to escape from his weak fingers, but he manages to hold on.  The whole room swimming as though is were a virtual reality booth.  Through the dust caked on his face he tastes dampness, instinctively recoiling - his hand returns a terrible shade of red.

Memories fuzzy, like a lost little fly, floating from flower to dinner to why.  An evening of laughter at a beautiful old theatre... was that tonight?  Or a millennia ago?  "Dong!"  His nonsensical thoughts interrupted by chimes, of the familiar friend in the corner of the room.  Nestled within stacks of yellowed papers.

He hauls his trembling frame on to the chair, surveying the bleak, desolate room.  Evidence lying in the carpeted mist, two footsteps in... dragging something heavy.  A terrified giggle escapes.  Involuntarily breaking the grandfather's rhythm, the hypnotic trace momentarily silent..

Then all of sudden, shimmering light floods the room, blinding his bleary eyes and with the bright dust cloud explosion.  Aghast, he looks at the shadow, a familiar shape outlining the door.  Him.  Again.  "Why?" A mumble was all he could muster.  "Why did you have to do this?"

The laughter was so familiar, so purely evil yet so much his own.  "You know why.  You were weak.  So much potential and you failed to seize it!"  The shadow approached his slumped body, barely able to remain on the chair.  The dark, leather jacket that he wore filled his lungs with a scent he knew so well.

It was futile, to fight against him.  It only made him stronger, a victory battle was what he truly craved.  Tracing the letters out in the thick dusty table in front of him, he looked at the shadow and caught his breath. "Go ahead." he sighed, heavy in his heart.

The shadow looked at him without emotion, without anger, pain or remorse.  Sensing something he had never noticed before, not ever having the need to care to look for it.  It had taken this weak, dirty figure in front of him, with the familiar face and familiar hands, reaching out to him now in his hour of need to realise.

The shadow slowly lowered his arms.  Scooping the battered body of the other in them and bracing to take the strain, chair breathing a sigh of relief.  Looking down, he relinquished as he carried out the poor soul, "I see you at last.  I see who you are.  We are one.  Connected.  The same... I'm... Sorry".