Let go and wash me of this…I remember all and while it is not my thing- I have.
Rid me of this disaster that I call love…for love would not torture me so sweetly…my fear of standing alone has come to pass and I ache at this reality….so I wish not to belong in the realm of such deep ruin much longer than I can stand….
I can’t feel my feet as I walk the path intended upon so I want to run…run into your arms and find my solace that became my ever so awaken dream.
But now I fear I have tormented myself far too long….
I fight to win the race that’s now over and I take with me the victory of a treasure more powerful than Gold.
Don’t wish upon a thought provoking dream…
Come….seek your solace in me.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Friday, June 15, 2007
To be...
A smile, a glance and I was lead into a whirlwind of thought that every passion could not blind… A story began almost as of any other and faint whispers left lights were darkness once called home.
My heart trembles at your sight bringing with it bravery by design…do you know this design?
My subdued fire burst into flames by your charm, your life, those….eyes and I swear I have never felt lips this perfect… and without remorse it was as if I were meant to taste.
Yet with greatness comes pain….of not knowing, not seeing….of…hurt…and in one full swoop one path lay broken with a grasping for air as it left the bodies as corpses.
Obsidian butterfly emerges to breath life into what had fallen victim to circumstance…life to the brokenness that was to live separate…and I meet those eyes again, those fearful glances of “what if” calming into a solace of what now?
Shudder to think that these pieces be left in collapse, that their be no hope where it once lived out its life fruitless…where restoration has risen, glance at the darn of hope still left to be…
One by one the thought of something that could never be fixed swallowed by the fortitude of our first glances-seeing no crack, yet a new structure developed stalwart….left as though magic were performed on the hearts and minds by those who befell…
If you were meant to be here then be- no question of wanting not to stay.
You have become my soul and torn as such, the healer will prevail.
My heart trembles at your sight bringing with it bravery by design…do you know this design?
My subdued fire burst into flames by your charm, your life, those….eyes and I swear I have never felt lips this perfect… and without remorse it was as if I were meant to taste.
Yet with greatness comes pain….of not knowing, not seeing….of…hurt…and in one full swoop one path lay broken with a grasping for air as it left the bodies as corpses.
Obsidian butterfly emerges to breath life into what had fallen victim to circumstance…life to the brokenness that was to live separate…and I meet those eyes again, those fearful glances of “what if” calming into a solace of what now?
Shudder to think that these pieces be left in collapse, that their be no hope where it once lived out its life fruitless…where restoration has risen, glance at the darn of hope still left to be…
One by one the thought of something that could never be fixed swallowed by the fortitude of our first glances-seeing no crack, yet a new structure developed stalwart….left as though magic were performed on the hearts and minds by those who befell…
If you were meant to be here then be- no question of wanting not to stay.
You have become my soul and torn as such, the healer will prevail.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Misunderstanding
Extreme victors of romance lie dormant on the steps of disparaging thoughts to produce distraction…the levels of my mind can’t bare thought without presence of…
the mystical way you enter a room torments me to relive a fantasy that I can not play…well…
Why do you seem so cautious yet reveal chaos, and can I live in that moment?
My anger torments me…so I have become this deliberation of past moments not sought out quickly and the room fills unlike any scent I know…be brave and dutiful is a shame that I have come to forget, sweet child, yet I know not how your silence has become so welcomed.
Laugh if you must, but I must lie here in the silhouette of this place in dire need of some restitution…you are unlike any thing that I have shown in likeness…
Any revolting thought about which we have dreamed can only live in science fiction and I have no wonder become a relentless game where dung lives to breath…do I…No- it’s sickening to feel to the emotion bubbling over like a pot of hot water on a cold stove and I feel it, know it and own it…what do you think?
I wish only my thoughts would flow so freely as my mouth does and without it, I am nothing to the effect that I started…but a past.
The taste in my mouth bitters a sweet smell of flesh burrowing in the darkness of light and the vast contradiction that I am is not what I have…
The village of people that have not lived, live ever so peacefully and you blame love on their acts of tranquility…do you know nothing of the place within that pushes hard to free itself?
Or have you come to this place for solace, temporarily seeking a setting that was removed long before your utterance…why not fight for the program to continue when the guide has lead you astray.
Follow your glances, seek advances and take advantage of the moment placed in front of you…O wise Poet, understand or you will be left to live this peace as only a piece that was missed when separation tweaked it.
Unplug your detrimental canopy, allow the light to shine through…I am the lotion that will keep you from being burned by the suns rays of hurtful pleasure- yet you do not know that…So continue on…
the mystical way you enter a room torments me to relive a fantasy that I can not play…well…
Why do you seem so cautious yet reveal chaos, and can I live in that moment?
My anger torments me…so I have become this deliberation of past moments not sought out quickly and the room fills unlike any scent I know…be brave and dutiful is a shame that I have come to forget, sweet child, yet I know not how your silence has become so welcomed.
Laugh if you must, but I must lie here in the silhouette of this place in dire need of some restitution…you are unlike any thing that I have shown in likeness…
Any revolting thought about which we have dreamed can only live in science fiction and I have no wonder become a relentless game where dung lives to breath…do I…No- it’s sickening to feel to the emotion bubbling over like a pot of hot water on a cold stove and I feel it, know it and own it…what do you think?
I wish only my thoughts would flow so freely as my mouth does and without it, I am nothing to the effect that I started…but a past.
The taste in my mouth bitters a sweet smell of flesh burrowing in the darkness of light and the vast contradiction that I am is not what I have…
The village of people that have not lived, live ever so peacefully and you blame love on their acts of tranquility…do you know nothing of the place within that pushes hard to free itself?
Or have you come to this place for solace, temporarily seeking a setting that was removed long before your utterance…why not fight for the program to continue when the guide has lead you astray.
Follow your glances, seek advances and take advantage of the moment placed in front of you…O wise Poet, understand or you will be left to live this peace as only a piece that was missed when separation tweaked it.
Unplug your detrimental canopy, allow the light to shine through…I am the lotion that will keep you from being burned by the suns rays of hurtful pleasure- yet you do not know that…So continue on…
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