dewalton-blog

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Trivial Thought

Such trivial thing are often spoken of But I don’t care about the nonsense, I speak of love. I’m a ‘how are you’, not a ‘look at so and so’ I’m a ‘lets get to know them’, not a ‘look at this freak show.’ I want to know ‘What do you think of the world’ Not about the time Justin Bieber hurled. I want to know how you feel, Not what you had as yesterdays meal. But people talk about nonsensical things Without even realizing they’re in the worlds chains Break free, think further than before! Study, build your core! Information is how you grow and achieve While rumors destroy and deceive. Learn and study to understand the truth of life Trust me, in the end you will feel less strife.

#mythoughts #mywriting #poets on tumblr #poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #my thoughts #spilled words #love #trivial #simple #think #learn #understand

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The Paths to Atlas

In every verse, world, galaxy, dimension; thought, will, dream and state of wonder is a doorway. Through creation, or last breaths is how each door opens. In reality, fantasy, death and dreams are were we all lie as we each are slowly pulled closer to one of the four doors that lead to the center of it all. A city in the center of all of existence shines and beacons at all of creation. The light that comes forth of this Atlas City set ablaze all on display for all to see its beauty. In the physical the light bounces and plays gleefully among the colors of its inhabitants. In dreams it is a thought, one in which pounds against your head until you decide to embrace it. Other forms come in fantasy. A creation in which the light of one is placed within its art. Lastly is the light in death. As everyone slowly passes, the light from ones eyes fade like a candle as it moves to warm the soul. Like a parachute under warm air the light of one floats into the land which all things go to pass. Through it all the light acts as a guide in the dark for others to follow. When we search ourselves we can see the light and focus on the warmth in which it brings. Light is the creators gift to His creation. What did creation do to the Creators light? Creation rebelled. They took the light and claimed it as their own. With light creation made fire. It fought against the Creator and tried to be like its Master. It held things for claim as creation called itself the creator. It would try to ruin the True Artist art as it didn’t feel with the light within itself, but rather the darkness cursed within it’s soul. Darkness, the lack of light, direction; wrath. Darkness bestowed upon creation when it tried to create its own light. Born out of fantasy, creation brought darkness, and with it pain and despair. Darkness would spread as creation put out it’s light. The Creator viewed His master piece and saw it was beginning to crumble. He began to weave and stitch up the tearing art. He scratched in a Crimson thread of his own blood and threaded the tapestry begging through end, holding His master piece once more. The light from Atlas shines with abundance as it guides It’s creation back to the Creator. Yet, not all follow the light to Atlas, nonetheless they are given the option. Even though not all creation may follow, it shows a lesson in of itself: There is no light without the dark. Even though not all creation follow, all creation knows deep down the consequence of putting out the Creators light. For if they do, Atlas will never be reached, Nonetheless if ones light does go out, know that the journey might be tough, but all you need to do is just ask for the Creators light and the path to Atlas will open once more.

#atlas Poetry Writing Story DEWalton Creation

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Check out my newest story on my website “Trail to Atlas: City of Light”

Summary:

Thomas and Jacob are two brothers who get lost going camping. The boys learn of a nearby city called Atlas to which they must make pilgrimage towards, but what they thought would be a normal hike ends up being an adventure through a mysterious land full of bizarre creatures and estranged helpers.

#story #storytelling #writter #horror #light

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Man in the Mirror

The man in the mirror stares at me, I wonder, is this who he wants to be? What does he feel? Is he happy? Does anyone care?

What do his eyes say? You hear his voice and it shouts glee, But when you stare at his soul you see mystery. What does he say? What do his eyes say? Who is this man in the mirror?

There’s something here, we have a history; What does the man in the miror want from me? He yearns for help, but fights against it Wanting to be himself the man runs from familiarity.

His eyes, swallowed silent thought as they showed his cards. They swam in sadness and glistened in tears, but he was on guard. How do I help the man in the mirror? Why is he so sad? I want him to be happy, shout and cheer. Why is he so sad?

He stares at me, a deep green gaze greeting me in. “I want to help!” I call to him. I look deeper and I see myself in his pupils reflection. That’s when I understood.

I stepped away from the mirior and lived my own life Every so often I’d fight my own strife. People would come and go, but mostly seemed to go. I was soon ignored and treated like a crow.

Until one day, I looked back in the mirror. I looked at his eyes and it suddenly was clear He looked happy, but I was sad. He smiled, but it hurt.

I stare at the man in the mirror. I bet he wonders who I want to be. Does he wonder how I feel? If I’m happy? Does anyone care but me?