Tag Archives: ermilia

Immeasurable Grace (Picture it & write 16)

My opponent and I
Stand face to face
Under an empty sky

Her hands at her side,
Across the field
She seems to glide

My hands are shaking
My knees knock… knock.
Our eyes lock.

A blink and she’s here.
So fast I can not breath, I do not run
The end that forever I have dread is near.

She blinks and exhales,
I feel her warmth,
My defiance fails.

I cannot speak,
I cannot cry,
I am too weak,
I can’t deny
The itching
Of my heart.

I can’t restart
I can not let go
But that she already knows.

I release my fate
Release my fists
I stare into Hell’s gate

I gaze into her face.

And we embrace.

Forgiveness is the impossible.
It is the only way.
There is nothing to say.

Tears stream down
My miserable cheeks
I am empty and weak

Each day and week,
The months that speak
Countless volumes of immeasurable decay
That has amounted every day
Without her here,

Guilt and pain wash over me
I whisper
I’m sorry.

She does not speak
She has her prey
And she touches its cheek.

The chains that have bound me
Are tighter yet
What I deserve I am bound to get.

Yet somehow…
That beautiful face
Conceals words of immeasurable grace.

I hear her say

It’s okay.

My shackles clink
Upon the floor.
We speak no more.

Love’s Fool (Picture it & write #15)

Oh what a fool I am.
Stupidity left unmatched
What a fool I was
To walk the land of love
And think I might escape
Empty nights
And dreamless terror
Surround me now
In my frigid
Shallow breaths
And goodbyes never said
Cast shadows of wrinkles
Across my mourning face
My daylight collapsed
And twilight did too
Now the night and I
Rest alone in our world
Of perpetual dark.
Scars mark my eyes
Where goodbyes never said
Replay in my head.
Oh what a fool I am.

Curtain of Death (Picture it & write #14)

Picture it and write time 🙂


Under the curtain
The black mist falls
On children’s heads
In the wake of the dead

Their bodies are pale
In the corpse-like moonlight
As white as the bone
Behind peeled back skin

Their flesh is cold and damp
Under the black mist of war

Under the curtain of Death’s black stamp
Lie placid chalk marks of violence’s score

Those Who Write On the Line (Picture it and write #13)

Check out the main page on Ermilia’s blog!



War is printed in black and white
On a sheet before us now.
War is before us, upon our desk,
All we must do is bow
Forward and list our name,
Stating our favor to play such a game
As war.
War is such a short little word.
A single syllable, three little letters.
War is twelve point Times New Roman
War is centered, bolded font.
War is written as a short essay,
An essay exclaiming a simple question:
Yes or no?
Do or don’t?
Whether we will or won’t
depends on a few short names
Signed on a line.
And many lines
Fill with names
Of supporters of the game
As many lines
Are formed to play.
War is simple.
A yes or no question,
A one point exam
Surrounding millions of lives.
War is a paper
That leaders sign.
War is easy
For those who write on the line.

Cemetery (Picture it & write #12)

Picture it & write!

Red dress.
Black and blue
Litter legs.
Scattered remains
Once held
Now remain
On forest bed.
Dark eyes,
Cool and grey,
Focused on
She prays,
To live
As tear drops fall
On grandmother’s grave.

Wandering Snowy Streets (Picture it & write #11)

Hey all, I missed a week but I’m back on track with PICTURE IT & WRITE!

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Picture perfect
Black and white
Snow-capped landscape.
Crisp northern air
pushed by southward winds.
Grips my nose, numb my chin.
Dulls the shining blade
Of consciousness.
Of thought, of feeling,
Cold remains.
I would scurry home
Through the frost-laden trap,
To warmth and freedom
From icy captivity.
But city streets are covered in white,
The sky shall be my shelter tonight.

Home (Picture it & write #10 Christmas Edition!)

Picture it and write!


Frostbite’s nip

Is not quite enough

To silence the footsteps

Of a traveler

Long forgotten,

Long awaited.

An unwelcoming land

Behind and ahead,

He hangs his head,

And sings away the chill.

The wind will bite,

And try as he might,

He will not escape,

He knows his plight,

But frostbite’s bite

Might not have the might

To stop the venture

Of a lonely believer,

Who follows a star


This Christmas night.

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