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Tag Archives: Loss

Anguish – #Poetry and #ThoughtsforChallengingTimes

10 Saturday Oct 2020

Posted by Morgan in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, Challenging Times, Hatred, Loss, photography, Poetry Blog, War, ~Morgan~

Anguish Settles

.

Sanction Not the Loss of Life,

the Rending, Tearing,

Corrupting, Destroying,

Maiming, Hurting,

Riotous Calamity

That falsely names itself

Truth

Prompting War; Intolerance, and Violence

On All Sides,

For where Hate Meets with Battle

Where Lies are Raised Vitriolically,

Anguish Settles her Bitter Shadow

And Shall Not Be Moved.

.

~Morgan~

.
.
.
Moving Image found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer.
Thank You~

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Brimstone – #Poetry of Shadow and #Darkness in #ChallengingTimes

19 Saturday Sep 2020

Posted by Morgan in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, Challenging Times, Dark Days, Dark Times, Darkness, End Times, Falling, life, Loss, Loss of hope, Poem, poetry, ~Morgan~

.

Brimstone shades

in shallow reverie,

In hallow whispers of broken chimes;

They speak of days beyond our grasp,

of tendrils of moments encompassing the norm,

But what is the norm?

Where does such a word lead?

What prophecy does it speak

when the Lights fall and shades of dim gloom steal across our path?

Brimstone,

Lingering traces of echoing history,

Beyond the glimpses of imagining,

When time and trial and tenuous affection

for all we once knew and all we might ever know

come crashing down in calamitous peals

like tympanies of favored days,

now spiraling like blown out candles,

and all that once was Bright and Glimmering,

simmers in the cress of

brimstone

dark

and

cold.

.

~Morgan~

.

.

.

Image by:  iStockphoto/Evan Austen

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Sorrow- #Remembrance of #Love

11 Wednesday Sep 2019

Posted by Morgan in Just Me Musing

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, Grief, Human Condition, In Remembrance, Losing a Loved One, Loss, Love, ~Morgan~

Sorrow

.

It doesn’t seem possible that 5 years have passed since my Mother left this world for the next.

It isn’t conceivable that it has been so long, and yet I miss her still and the grief can still overtake me.

I found it hard to imagine 5 years ago when a close friend commiserated with me and said she could not believe 5 years had passed since her own mother moved to a different realm; yet now I stand wondering where 5 years have gone.

So much has happened, so many things I wish I could have shared with her, though I know she watched and listened and shared them with me through the silent whispers of Love.

5 years ago this day was unbearable.  traumatic.  heart-breaking.

Today I remember, not with tears, but with overflowing gratitude that I was so Abundantly Blessed to share so many years with so Beautiful a spirit as my Mother was, IS and ever shall be.

.

Sorrow has broken my heart this week. The trauma of bearing witness to slow decline, the struggle, the anguish, and, Today, the Unbearable, Inexpressible, Heart-wrenching LOSS and Loneliness is nearly more than I can bear.

My Mother Passed on into the Realm of Eternal Love, Hope, Peace and Joy today. I Envy her. I Rejoice for her. I miss her more than I could ever, ever say.

.

I love you Mom!

~Morgan~

.

.

.

Beautiful Original Artwork by:Unknown, but I thankfully acknowledge credit to the talented artist.

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Stain – #Halloween #DailyHaikuChallenge

27 Friday Oct 2017

Posted by Morgan in Daily Haiku Challenge

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, Darkness, Grief, Halloween, Haunted Places, Loss, Poem, poetry, Poetry Blog, Sorrow, The Past, ~Morgan~

.

All that used to Be

Resides in Forgetfulness

A Stain of Darkness

.

To take part in the Daily Haiku Challenge see  The Original Post from Day One

.

Day 352 / 365

 

.

~Morgan~

.

.

.

Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the Original Photographer.  Thank You~

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Poem: “Ongoing” (#guestblogger)

23 Saturday Sep 2017

Posted by A. R. Frederiksen in Guest Bloggers on BnV, Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, Fire, flame, Loss, Love, poetry, time, words

A match that burns.
Time that does not stop.
Pockets of charred air
leave footprints on the floor,
sooty and timeless,
like that of you and I.

A. R. Frederiksen is a recurring guest blogger here at BnV, and her own writing blog can be found here, where she dabbles in flashfiction/poetry.

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Poem: “Lives of Fabric” (#guestblogger)

12 Sunday Mar 2017

Posted by A. R. Frederiksen in Guest Bloggers on BnV, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

amwriting, BnV, BooknVolume, Grief, life, Loss, Poem, poetry, sad, spilled-ink, words, Writing

Finely threaded,
a carpet of many means,
many dreams,
stitched together by the feet
that walked these halls,
it lays still these days,
with no feet to walk
and no dreams of which we talk.

 

A. R. Frederiksen is a recurring guest blogger here at BnV, and her own writing blog can be found here, where she dabbles in flashfiction/poetry and reflects over the, much elusive, ABCs of writing.

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Poem: “Move” (#guestblogger)

19 Sunday Feb 2017

Posted by A. R. Frederiksen in Guest Bloggers on BnV, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, life, Loss, Love, Memories, Poem, poetry, Regret

 

For the strength in my bone,
and the ground that tics below
these feet of ours that stagger,
is neither what they used to be.

 

A. R. Frederiksen is a recurring guest blogger here at BnV, and her own writing blog can be found here, where she dabbles in flashfiction/poetry and reflects over the, much elusive, ABCs of writing.

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Dampem Soul

08 Sunday Jan 2017

Posted by Sakhi in Guest Bloggers on BnV

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

BnV, English, Guest Blogger, Guest Posts, Loss, Love, Poem, poetry, Romance, Sorrow

sad-girl-hd-wallpapers-9

by Sakhi

The breeze tonight is damp
It scrapes and wounds
Moon rose beyond the lake
Shrivels and languid
The life you sowed for me
I’m yet to reap or live
Alone I breathe for you
Alone I breathe for us
My soul ushered my corpse
Into a strange city
The day is not ablaze
Depart does not have the night
No matter how we tried
The chasm only grew
The days We left behind
Today beckon and smile
The breeze tonight is Damp
It scrapes and wounds
Moon rose beyond the lake
Shrivels and Languid

 

By https://quillnparchment.com/

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#FridayFantasy – Rehstaed – A Fey Lost in Revelry – #DarkFey #CharacterSketch

18 Friday Nov 2016

Posted by Morgan in Dark Fey

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

Addiction, BnV, BooknVolume, Character Sketch, Dark Fey, Epic Fantasy, Fantasy, Fantasy Books, Fantasy Characters, Grief, Loss, ~Morgan~

rehstaed

.

Rehstaed (pronounced with a trilled R-eh-stayed) is introduced in Dark Fey: Standing In Shadows and becomes one of the central, supporting characters in the story.  He is a Fey in his early 30’s, about the same age as Veryth, although his nature is far different. Having been a Fey Guard Captain, he is fearless and fierce; yet he suffered so horrifying a loss in his personal life that he now simply exists day to day, lost in an addiction to temple wine that makes his life bearable.  He is the personification of grief and depression and the choices we all make in dealing with loss.  This is collection of a few snippets from Dark Fey to help illustrate him better.  Of course, the image is an inspiration and sadly, does not show his magnificent bronze-hued wings.

.

….“Our revelry must seem,” he paused, seeking the correctly word, “tame, in comparison t’ wha’ you are used.”  The glare that met this statement encouraged the youthful malefey to elaborate hastily.

“Being in The Temple, under the watchful gazes o’ The Elders, it makes a Fey… cautious in his merriment.”  His smile was enough to soothe the irritation Gairynzvl suddenly felt at the approach of the unexpected stranger; nonetheless, he stood guarded and merely nodded.  The other tried again.

“You do no’ find the wine palatable?’  Gairynzvl looked down into the full chalice he held and shook his head.

“I find it very palatable, too much so.”  The other concurred with a knowing smile and nod.

“Temple wine.  Best there is.”  He raised the flagon he held, meant for mead though filled to the top with crimson wine, and drank with a pleased grin turning his lips.

“Goes down easy; sneaks up on you slow, but like as not, if you drink too much, you shall feel as if one o’ th’ Elder’s themselves kicked you in th’ ‘ead in the mornin’.”  He chortled, as if he knew from experience, and Gairynzvl could not resist his infectious wit.  Chuckling dryly, he raised his own cup and drank.

“I’m Rehstaed.”  The other said offhandedly.

“Gairynzvl.”  He answered, equally unceremoniously.  They considered each other for a moment and Gairynzvl could not help wondering over the other’s striking, coppery hued hair, violet eyes and bronze shaded wings; all colors he had never seen before.  In their mutual silence, the musicians struck up another long awaited tune and, amidst cheers and sharp peals of laughter, a large circle of dancers gathered in the center of the hall.

“Have you ever ridden a tryngalith bareback?”  Rehstaed queried without preamble, as if riding one of the monstrous, six legged, hooved and horned tryngalith from the northern countries was the simplest thing in the world.   He received a markedly bewildered expression in answer.

“No.  Why would you do that?”  Rehstaed shrugged carelessly.

“I dunno.  Too much Temple wine, perhaps?” His wry wit was inescapable and Gairynzvl could not contain a hoarse laugh………….

Native to the north realm, he was once a captain of the Fey Guard stationed on the northern isle of Vrynnyth Gahl.  Fierce of virtue and courageous of valor, he had thwarted more than a few attempted crossings by the Reviled, which were a common occurrence in those lands where many ancient pools of quiet water created glassy portals that were easily traversed.  Wed to a beautiful shefey who had born him a son, the small family lived in the outlying countryside renowned for its loveliness, though it was quite far from any native settlements.

Reydan then explained that Fey Guard captains were often rotated through their various stations for the sole purpose of protection.  If they were not frequently relocated, the Reviled would quickly discover where they made their homes and come seeking retribution for the wrongs they felt done to them, yet in such a far distant region, rotation of The Guard was difficult to achieve.  There simply were not enough Fey stationed there to make the practice feasible and, as a result, a legion of Dark Ones crossed over and located Rehstaed’s cottage.

Even before he described what then occurred, Gairynzvl winced with bitter insight, but he did not interpose his own memories of similar events, in which he had been forced to participate as a young Legionnaire, while Reydan continued in a lower tone.  His voice took on a heaviness of controlled emotion as he explained that the legion, numbering some twenty or more, although Rehstaed confessed he was uncertain of the precise number, bound him to a tree with leather lacings studded with spikes of metal designed to impede escape.

They then dragged his beloved from the house and brought her before him.  Helpless to protect her, he was compelled to watch as they stripped and beat her and spent much time forcing such brutal acts of debauchery upon her that the life force within her was ultimately extinguished.  His infant son had been bound in a sack to be taken with the Dark Ones into their realm, but in his monumental rage and anguish at having to witness the horrors visited upon his loved ones, Rehstaed dragged his hands through the jagged spines of his bonds, in spite of the injuries they inflicted, and attacked.

The sun was already rising; the Reviled could not linger, so, in order to distract him and ensure their escape, they tossed the sack, with his son inside, down the cottage well.  Although he tried countless times, he could not withdraw the body of his son from the depths of the well any more than he could restore breath in his dreadfully abused wife.

Since that time, Rehstaed lived among them in Hwyndarin, but spent much of his time separated from them by his unbearable grief.  Though many had tried to aid him, including several Temple Healers, the only way he managed to tolerate continued existence was through the consumption of copious amounts of Temple wine…..

.

~Morgan~
.

.

.

Original artwork by omupied at Deviantart.com

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#TBT- Prisoner

10 Thursday Nov 2016

Posted by Morgan in Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, Loss, Memory, Poem, poetry, Poetry Blog, relationships, spirituality, ~Morgan~

Prisoner

.

Prisoner of All that once was True

Viridian Memory of Jaded View

Anchored in the Incorporeal Air

Forever Lost,
Ever Remembered

Reaching for the Then and There!

.
.

~Morgan~

.

.

.

Beautiful Original Artwork by: Frank Melech

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Jaded – A-Z#Poetry

27 Tuesday Sep 2016

Posted by Morgan in Poetry

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

Beautiful Photographs, BnV, BooknVolume, Darkness, depression, Loneliness, Loss, Lost Love, Poem, poetry, Poetry Blog, Poetry Challenge, Writing Challenge, ~Morgan~

jaded

.

In the darkness

Encircled by change and calamity

Perched upon the precipice with my gaze cast downward

Discovering the abyss Continue reading →

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In Quietness Be – #Poetry of #Remembrance

11 Sunday Sep 2016

Posted by Morgan in Poetry

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

9/11, BnV, BooknVolume, Grief, Losing a Loved One, Loss, Love, Memory, Poem, poetry, Poetry Blog, Sorrow, ~Morgan~

lavender-twilight

.

I will in Quietness Be,

Listening,

Remembering

Your Sweet Love for Me

Until the Quietness

Unfolds in tears,

Longing,

Remembering

The many Blessings of Years;

Now in the Hush

In Quietness Be;

Rest

Sweetest Soul

In Tranquility.

.

In Loving Remembrance of my Mother, who joined The Source of All Life and her Beloved in the next Realm two years ago today….

And in Tribute and Memory of all those lost in 9/11….

My Tears speak in quietness….

~Morgan~

.

.

.

.

Beautiful Image found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original Photographer/Artist.  Thank You~

Save

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Hollow

17 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by Morgan in Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Alone, BnV, BooknVolume, Brokenness, creative writing, Darkness, Denizens, depression, emotions, Grief, Heart, life, Loneliness, Loss, nothingness, Pain, Poem, poetry, Shadows, Shape Shifters, Silence, Solitude, spirituality, Thoughts, Void, Whispers, Writing, ~Morgan~

Hollow

Shadows billow against the Solitude of my thoughts,
Shape-shifters of ebon calamity
Spilling from the darkness into a violet haze
That spins my senses and leaves me Dim,
Unheard and Voiceless in the vacuous Stillness.

.

Tumbling into this ether,
This Void of nothingness that Engulfs me
And Consumes ravenously like vultures at feast,
I Stare blankly into the murk,
Wondering mutely how it has come to this.

.

Empty

.

Alone

.

Broken, yet Seeking,
.

Wordless and yet, screaming,
As the denizens of deep shade creep into the very Heart of me,
Devouring as they dance,
And like Inescapable quicksand
That sucks me deeper down as I struggle to Escape,
The Blankness breeds like Contagion.

.

And I stare,
Hollow,
Into the Void.

.
This poem touches on the darkness of Grief and Depression, Shadows that Haunt us all at one point or another.
.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Original Artwork by: Fernanda Brussi Goncalves

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Friday Fantasy – Shimmering Silence

30 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by Morgan in Friday FeyDay / Fantasy, Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

BnV, BooknVolume, creative writing, Fantasy, Grief, Haiku, Heart, Longing, Loss, Love, mythological creatures, Poem, poetry, relationships, Romance, Shadows, Silence, Tears, Whisper, Whispers, ~Morgan~

Shimmering Silence

Shimmering Silence

Whisper Gently to my Heart

Shadows Melting Tears

.

~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Artwork found on Facebook at: Fairies, dragons and other mythological creatures. Credit Acknowledged to the original Artist. Thank You.

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In This Soft Hour

29 Thursday Jan 2015

Posted by Morgan in Poetry

≈ 28 Comments

Tags

Alone, BnV, BooknVolume, creative writing, Darkness, Desire, Dreams, Grief, Heart, Heaven, Hecuba, Kiss, Light, Loneliness, Longing, Loss, Love, Memory, Moonlight, Night, passion, Poem, poetry, relationships, Romance, Shadows, Sorrow, Specters, The Past, ~Morgan~

In this soft hour

In this Soft Hour,
By which Light no Shadows fall
To Kiss the Silver Moonlight of my sorrow.
Alone, tis naught but my own Memory which Speaks,
Of Days long past that lie in Wait before me,
Yet by this Hollow Light,
Which Shimmers like true Spectres of the Silken darkness,
And Dances in bleak jibes before me,
This Heart and this Fair Memory Cries out in like Fair Hecuba.
Waiting, Thus,
In this Soft Hour,
By which no Light claims the weakness of my Heart,
I tarry ‘neath the Glimmer of one failing candle
And call out,
Out into the shifting tides of murky darkness swimming hence before me,
Gilded by the Glamour of far distant Lights,
Like remembrances peering down from Sweetest Heaven,
And Pierce this empty vale with acutest Hearing,
Longing for the Nearer Sound of Your Fair Voice,
Then how it Sings but now,
So Far From Me.

.
~Morgan~
.
.
.
Beautiful Original Artwork by: Iardacil at Deviantart

Save

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