Recreation In Progress

   I haven't written for awhile, and a lot has happened since I last posted something remotely meaningful. I had an entire summer of writing stories and then things got busy and I stopped writing. I stopped making movies. I didn't really read as much as I used to.
  Then stuff happened, and I was suddenly left completely empty inside, a mere shadow of who I used to be. A very tired and lost shadow. It was as though my entire being had been sucked out of me and the only thing left behind was a shell.
   So I began the quest of finding myself. It started out with jumbled, angry poetry that didn't even sound poetical. The poems were short, raw and bitter. Anger radiated from them. Words didn't even fit together properly, but the words had been locked away for so long that they all spilled out, quite jumbled.
   Days, weeks, two months later and I was still writing poetry, only poetry. But the words were beginning to flow again. Little rays of hope were beginning to sneak in among the bitter and angry creations. It became a game, "put in hope where you can". I still wasn't able to write short stories and planning a movie plot was out of the question.
  After a time, I began writing long, not planned out stories in my notebook. None of them got finished, but at least I was writing four or five pages worth of story. It was progress.
   Then my drama class and I filmed a movie, with which I had ideas for and helped plan. Though it was only a music video and there wasn't much plot, it was still something, and it meant a lot to me.
    So where am I now? Still writing lots of poetry, about to start some short stories (hopefully) and already working on a movie or two. Though I still don't feel like myself every day, I think pieces of myself have returned. But at the same time, I don't even want to be the same as before. I'm different now. Still myself, the old self, but also something new. Something hopeful. I am a Recreation, still in progress.

Cruel Reality

Cruel Reality, watching so closely,
like a motionless tiger lying in wait.
We were so safe in our little dream bubble,
so unaware of the cold world outside.
The sun shone so brightly up on the green field,
and together we danced, laughingly, carefree.
But jealous Reality, clothed in red dress,
gazed at our joy, and then gleefully screamed,
"I'll take your bright sun and replace it with rain;
your green grassy field will become a grey swamp.
Every sweet word that you both have spoken
shall now melt away, leaving nothing behind."
So the walls of our love were quickly torn down,
and Reality swiftly swept us apart.

Journey

After being shattered,
torn apart inside,
A hole was carved out of me
and something in me died.

Our dreams, desires and hopes,
so young and plentiful,
All too quickly melted away
both of us feeling dismal.

The time that then came after,
so dark, unhopeful and bleak.
The Heart could see no light
the body soon became weak.

A living, moving corpse,
an empty, lonely shell.
The Soul would drift, unheard from,
locked in its' gloomy cell.

But life is so persistent,
and always will pull through.
Subtle, gentle rays of light
will once again shine true.

The pieces of self are gone,
and an emptiness remains.
Yet the dark thoughts drip away,
the soul no longer in chains.

So Self must be reborn,
clay in a Potter's hands.
Piece by piece, the hole is filled,
done so with multiple strands.

Recreated little wonder,
dance with Joy once more.
Let your dreams regain their wings,
and see what He has in store.