Dried Ink

You Are Your Mother’s Victory Song

You are your mother's victory song,A tale of blood and tearsA symphony of the battle scars that adorn her belly You are your father's treasure,A universe of wild beautyEmbodied in flesh and bones Remember to walk this life loudly,Your footsteps, an audacious roarThat rumbles in the deepest valleys of fear Stand boldly in the light,With… Continue reading You Are Your Mother’s Victory Song

Dried Ink

Cupid Chronicles

What is love? Love, in all its wonder, is the one that stays It is the rain dance during the storm,the ebb and flow as you shed old skinIt walks through the valleys with youas a light to your path,guiding you to a place of redemption Love is, the silent comfort of your lover's presencethe… Continue reading Cupid Chronicles

Dried Ink

Ada’s Prayer

In the midst of the firemay your hands stay firmly entwined in mineyour robe of affection covering my bleeding heart On this road to redemptionmay I not get lost in the high of the momentforgetting that you are my home and my delight In this sea of war and victorymay my heart not be hardened,panel… Continue reading Ada’s Prayer

Dried Ink

Nameless

This is for the moments that formed into seasons, the days of grief that spilled into months This is for the days when you forgetthat darkness holds no water in your souland the deep end will not swallow you whole When your heart hangs by a threadAnd agony stands ten-feet tall, whisper: In this sea… Continue reading Nameless

Dried Ink, Lost Letters

Back Bone

We all get to a point where our feet beg us to stop running, our hearts pound loudly against our chest, stretched from exhaustion. What happens then? Do you push your flayed arms and buckled knees, willing them to keep going despite how they bleed? Wouldn’t life be better if we just learned to rest?… Continue reading Back Bone

Dried Ink

Ignite.

You see this fire in your hands?It was made to light the pathof redemptionand bring the lost sheepback home This song that flows from your lungs,the worlds you create with pen and paper,every brush stroke that kisses the canvas,Each curve, bend, pause, and playpoints man back to Abba This gift in your handsis a tale… Continue reading Ignite.