

Samm Smith
Drown me in cold misery
As bitter as the Arctic Ocean.
And hold me under the water until I say I love you.
Because I won’t say I love you.
Let the sea fill up my lungs,
That’s just fine with me.
Kiss my frost bitten lips
And taste how sad they are.
Drift out into the unknown with me
And don’t be afraid by the depths below our feet.
As long as the water is colder than my sorrow
I’m going to be okay.
As long as your eyes still shine as you look at me,
You’re going to be okay.
And as long as we die together,
It’s going to be okay.
I feel you in my bones
So deep in their core that
You have become the structure within me
Supporting and holding me together.
I feel you in my heart
You are so vigorously running through my blood
That when I bleed you are there
Oxidizing and flowing down my body.
I feel you in my head
So entrenched in my brain that
As I fall asleep at night your face is permanently
Burned into my dreams.
I feel you in my soul
You are so thickly entwined with me
That every movement and every thought
Is just me in synchronization with you.
Forever trapped in a series of questions,
Never to find answers,
-fastening tensions.
Twist and squeeze,
Whatever they please,
Not grasping concepts to complex to seize.
Not caring about what’s to come,
Not wanting to know where the future’s from.
Obsessed with the past,
And moving too fast.
Progression’s on its way,
Not willing to let the present stay,
Fold into new centuries,
Let the past decay.
An always changing society,
A new present for today.
It’s time to make up your mind,
Choose which discoveries are better to find,
Which ones are the best for all of mankind?
A community of the naïve,
Not realizing their companions sent to deceive,
Some seek independence from this crumbling nation,
Punished and put away,
Told their minds are of the devil’s creation.
Born in a world so unforgiving,
Our young left for a future not worth living.
Our humanity long deceased,
No one’s let out; we’re never to be released.
A different mindset,
A clock that’s timeless,
Nothing matters in this reverse reality,
Murders and suicides,
The increasing numbers of fatality.
Among the rich,
The poor mean nothing,
When the wealth goes down,
The rich go crumbling.
Sucked into poverty,
The mindsets change,
Careless thoughts begin to rearrange.
The clock that’s timeless,
Begins to tick,
The people of once wealth,
Laid down with the rest of the cold and sick.
Reverse reality’s crash down for some,
With devastations still left to come,
The poor left to teach,
What the rich have yet to learn,
Money has no value,
And it will always burn.
Needy hands reach out for savior,
The taste of wealth an unknown flavor.
The stars shine yellow and florescent
The sky is lit with orange and red
The moon is shaped a lovely crescent
A mid-night breeze blows over head.
Crowds chant as the bewitching hour starts
A witch is hung and burned at the stake
A sin it is, to be a witch with a heart
These witches are killed with blazing hate.
Witchcraft and magic misunderstood
leading to the death of innocent people
in the air’s the smell of burning wood
a flame is burning the churches steeple.
Rebellion and lust
Straining to win
Gaining no trust
A repeating sin.
The witching hour is almost over
War is floating in the air
Grab the garlic and the clover
Naive superstition’s something to share.
As the night breaks into dawn
The last witch is hung and burned
The townsfolk dance and sing a song
But a witch’s lesson will never be learned.
Let the song of dawn tantalize you,
Let the earth arouse the morning sun,
The trees are dim, the light’s futile,
It only seems as though you’re the only one.
The birds are out, the crickets chirping,
The wind is humming a quiet tune,
The ground is glowing, emanating beauty,
The dance will be over sadly quite soon.
The sun is rising, the clouds are crying,
Let the brilliance of daybreak soak you in,
The evanescent dark is now radiance,
Dewy warmth is on your skin.
The essence of beauty is but a creature of astronomical proportions-
It is unique like a fingerprint, and delicate like porcelain.
It roams space and time, blessing newborns, and flowers and aging men;
It sits upon the darkest objects, and lights them like a crescent moon.
The essence of beauty is only an imaginary friend, all but too real.
It consists of butterflies, and dandelions; Oceans and currents; Wars and deaths; Births and love.
It is everywhere, sprinkling its warmth to all that inhabit the universe-
It is wealth, it is poverty.
It is nothing but a gift, given to all with life; whether metaphorically or physically.
Deep within the seemingly impossible, is the essence of beauty.
It’s the smell of bravery,
Of slickness, and treachery.
It’s the smell of doom,
Of attitude and gloom.
It’s all too familiar,
And a little bit chilling,
It’s the smell of her perfume,
And all too fulfilling.
It’s the smell of a con-artist,
The smell of a witch,
The smell of a criminal,
The smell of a bitch.
