Why do I see in a world gone blind? I always longed to find the answers, took chances. Asked for the veil to thin. Fault? Mine. Left questioning; my eyes, blessings or curses?
ALETHEIA LIOLATruth as my armour. My sword as my pen. I’ll do what I will to prevail again. Shining so brightly so they shot me down. Did they not know how hard I would bounce?
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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You, a God I worshipped Your word was music to my ears Rose-tinted glasses: verdict You confirmed all my worst fears.
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We shined a light through our flaws to our internalistic plea. Emphasized the healing that shall set our lost souls free. We were a brief reflection of what we should not be.
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Wound to wisdom, pain to power. A seed of grief, now time to flower.
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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say – Do I see, what is me? Or did his eyes lead me astray?
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You can find beauty in the darkest of places. Be the light, my love. Bring smiles to their faces.
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Clutching a burning match, he said “look, and she’ll explode”. Ignored the gas he poured; his match caused my implode.
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My bloody hands that hold on to faith. Learned that we grow with pain and not age.
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Only after you have fallen to the pits of despair, can you fly to the horizon of hope.
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My core; shook and rumbled. My being; awakened, humbled. My psyche; aligned, revives. My flesh; survived and thrives. This moment. The presence. A gift. Breathe. Smile. Be happy. Exist. Exhale. Relax. Surrender. Inspire. Inhale. Trust. Love. Respire.
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The only way I’ll ever choose to taste sweet love again, Is if he tells me, he loves my mind, and the way I use my pen.
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Trust is an illusion. A systematically flawed word. A total forgery of a statement. Trust assumes infallibility – without errors, mistakes, or fuck ups.
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Our interpretations reflect our imperfections. We will always read between the lines, but we decide what we choose to find.
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Have faith in the fall. Sometimes life knocks us down so that we can discover what resides at the bottom of it all.
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I dragged my pain into the darkness, I carried it into the light – No matter where I choose to take it, This pain refuses to subside. I washed my sins off in the ocean, I prayed all my badness away, Whichever God I choose to worship, I cannot make my soul be saved.
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Contemplation; intrinsic. I am aligned perception. A, perfected plan. I am ferocious and tranquil. Rising. Pain to power. Alchemic. Energising
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I can feel her resurrecting. The one he thought he had killed. Strength realised in her resting. It was worth all the blood spilled.
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You only meet someone, as deeply as they’ve met themselves. So do not allow their demons to condemn your soul to hell.
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Perception is the paintbrush. The reality, the canvas. You are the artist. Create purposefully.
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I have a habit of seeing through the cloak that they wear to hide what truly resides in their soul. I have a habit of tearing out skeletons from the blackest of closets; although it’s never the goal. I have a habit of forcing others to look in the mirror, at the darkest parts of their soul. And I no longer want to play the role.
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I compare myself to the leaves; dead, yet dancing in the breeze. Is it meant to hurt this much, falling from the trees?
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Endless consumption will not make you feel whole suffer, stained items are not good for the soul.
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Cultural identity; warped and changed. Each of you thinks the other is to blame, It’s created this way, yet we all play a role. We could stop it today if we felt the truth in our souls.
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Don’t let the ugly in others kill the beauty in you. Let it inspire you to conjure a worthwhile view. Observe their darkness-like space in between the stars. Acknowledged, yet dazzled with the bright beauty of ours. Their darkness is worthy of unconditional love. Just give their ugly, mercy.
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Abstruse spite bleeds from their mouth. I hear the venom, It’s screaming so loud, And yet so benign Reaction, not roused Their “nasty”, so nice The beast lost its shroud.
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The child within; raised voice; fast heart; flinches. Flight response, with an attitude and broken hinges. The child within; tiptoes; eggshells. Heaven; hell. Still, she finds a quiet place, safe and tranquil; dwell.
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I survived the darkness. Crawled. Clawed. Endured. Untangled lies from truth. This wisdom is my sword.
ALETHEIA LIOLA