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 LIOLAThe 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.
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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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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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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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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After the flood, the colors were brightened demand tears of pain to feel so enlightened. Lassoed hope from the clouds that caused it to rain, divine intervention to feel love again.
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So what do we say to each other is the language of unspoken? The words are sweet; the space is bitter or is this just the them I’ve chosen.
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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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All my trauma grown to thorns, he overlooked it all. Perhaps they caused him to bleed in ways I can’t recall.
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I am worthy and steely. I will conquer again. Truth as my armor; My sword is my pen. Tell me I can’t and I’ll show you I will surviving and thriving is my refined skill.
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I think I may be in way over my head. I’ll learn how to breathe underwater instead.
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He always preferred the way my eyes looked after they had cried. I wish he knew how fine they looked once he had said goodbye.
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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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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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Truth 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?
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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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I survived the darkness. Crawled. Clawed. Endured. Untangled lies from truth. This wisdom is my sword.
ALETHEIA LIOLA