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Titles Are Important

Create a piece written using as many of your post titles as possible. I'll make an example, but for instance, writing poetry where one of the lines is the title of a post you had previously written. Try to use as many as possible, but make sure you have fun, using what you already have to guide what is written. Doesn't matter which format, just write whatever you want. Peace!

The Tale of a Soul...

Behind these walls I've built,

the lonely soul I've nearly killed,

fragile, swept away

by overflow of decay,

of pain, of desolation,

from dust gathered

in search of love, but finding

the pursuit and the catch

both and, neither nor

can fill the fearful ache

as our emaciated souls

hope ever for.

The whisper that sounds

in the hollow in my heart,

like all men,

the minstrel’s song of war,

as old as time,

a dance with all my demons:

the dark tower,

and the garden...

With a smile, painted on,

the heart in exile

the faithful heart,

faithful, stony bower,

torn apart in search of

what shadow cannot steal.

Houses and hearts, in ways the same,

each the canvas, blank

of true love and sorrow, both,

till we take up the paint.

The scale and the color of our love

heart to heart, soul to soul--

for man may there be mercy

if in these he fails:

to paint a porcelain heart

with tender eyes of hope,

leaving it to shatter,

the canvas to be splattered?

When what we treasure most

becomes our agony,

for desiring from afar

the embrace of another heart with lock and key,

can still we choose

to suffer with

and thus from walls be freed?

No one am I to dare such things,

and yet I wonder:

can my walled up soul still choose

to love the one in front of me?

Do the love and the will

of a cracked heart such as mine--

all my rubble here to find--

read as I hope they do:

a letter to you,

detailing an honest confession,

the mosaic of a weary life,

setting sail to port and home,

my home now made anew

by my love for you...?

But sit awhile and speak with me,

about love beyond what I perceive,

and teach me the power of a name,

from which I've often turned, afraid,

the hope of Misericordiae--

of mercy in my broken state,

the consequence of the places I have been.

And if we go from thought to thought,

in which we ponder many things,

let lost hope be mine once more,

the chance of the sun in my soul,

to break through mud, brick, and stone...

The fear of never being whole

stripped away from my soul:

At last opening a tiny door

in my heart,

and there not hiding anymore.