Nancy Ann Creed

  Photo by elaf on Pexels.com Ink the Bleeds It is the quiet room I build at midnight when the heavy world is finally fast asleep, a bridge between the shadow and the sunlight, and a vault for all the secrets I must keep. It is a tapestry of dark and ancient magic, where urban realms and phantom worlds collide, a canvas for the sweeping and the tragic, and the truths we are too terrified to hide. It is a shield against the weight of long tomorrows, a way to capture light within the gray, to anchor joy, to give a voice to sorrows, and mold the things I can't simply say. It is the ink that bleeds when hearts are breaking, the steady pulse beneath a restless hand, the quiet art of letting go and making a world that I can finally understand. More Works by Nancy Ann Creed Ebooks http://payhip.com/NancyAnnCreed Ebooks & Paperbacks Maeve http://books2read.com/u/m25Ygd

The Fearless Flight Take the chance at greatness, a choice for all, Be willing to reach, to answer the call. See what reserves within your spirit lie, Of strength and grace beneath the open sky. Commit to the dream, take the fearless flight, Forward with conviction, leaving behind the night. Hesitation is the foe of every deed, By fearing failure, planting doubt's cold seed. You'll never know the heights you could attain, The monuments you'd build through sun and rain. The touch of courage, how it might inspire, A beacon lit by your own brave fire. Embrace the call: Take the chance once more, See what you can do without a shore. Take the challenge, soar upon the breeze, Let past regrets dissolve with newfound ease. Don't look behind; the future lies ahead, Just keep the onward path and be well-led. Belief and grit define the way we go, The goals you set, the success you will know. Though failure whispers—part of learning's art— Do not let that dark shad...

  The Wall Within A hundred hands may wave hello, My circle stretches far and wide, A glittering, expanding galaxy of faces. I wear the badge of social glow, A persona polished by years of practice, With nowhere left for me to hide. From all the laughter, chatter, speed— The ceaseless, humming frequency Of a busy, pleasant, surface life. I move through it with practiced ease, A master of the graceful pivot, The knowing nod, the quick, witty reply. I plant a seed of friendship in every brief encounter, But plant no need, no urgent desire, To share the fragile, intricate root of inner strife. That soil remains untouched, protected Beneath a carefully cultivated veneer. I’m fluent in the easy grace, The casual etiquette of the crowd, The light exchange, the friendly art Of keeping things buoyant and untroubled. I hold my ground, keep pace for pace With the energy swirling around me. But with a discipline honed by instinct, I guard the chambers of my heart. They see the joy, ...

  Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com The Tapestry of Poison The tapestry of life has threads of gloom, Where toxic darkness drains the spirit's bloom. Some things in life are toxic, subtly sly, Environments that stifle, habits that deny Our health, or institutions built on lies— The silent poisons that before us rise. As harmful are the ties that bring us pain, Some people in life who are toxic, they remain Emotional vampires, constant critics cold, Passive aggressors, stories to be told Of manipulation, thriving on the storm, Suffocating potential, leaving us worn. Beyond the things and people we may face, Some activities are toxic in this space. The compulsions offering distraction's grace, But long-term regret we cannot erase: The relentless pursuit, the endless scroll, The cycles that entrap and take their toll. So why do we still use these things we know? Is it comfort, fear, or letting inertia grow? And why do we still talk to these people too? Is it guilt, ...