My love is my vice
I'm a wounded animal
Under your brute force

I realize
That not all men
****

That not all men
Beat

That not all men
Brutalize

That not all men
Leave

That not all men
Are destructive

But it's enough men
For me to be scared
Of all men

.

How do we mend wavering pedestals...
When the ground beneath is parched dry.
Stemming off loose foundations that time had weathered wry.

How do we mend broken gazes...
When watchful eyes which were meant to see,
are blinded by the onslaught of half-truths and fallacy.

How do we mend burnt bridges...
When we never look back to trace heavy missteps.
We fail to admit to consciously springing obvious traps.

How do I mend ailing hearts...
When familiar corridors seem warped to a bend.
When my own is struggling and perpetually on the mend.

slowly riding in the wind
the black hair of my horse
against a meaningless body
breaking through the night
as the stars watch over us
but the horse starts to sink
into this swamp of sand
with its hot burning surface
leaving me behind
in a peaceful silent darkness

FOOTSTEPS SET IN TIME

The lightness of
your footstep

as you hurried to me

caught in the slowly setting
concrete
you didn’t see

holds your fleeting love
permanently  

your footsteps
greedy for me

paying no attention
to the world whatever

only knowing that
in a few footsteps more

you would be precious
and adored for who you are

your footsteps
still exist

echoing inside my tears

as I put my next step
inside yours

and the snow fills
the other   footsteps        up.

One can never persuade already persuaded.

Ergo:
*You've got to fight your own battles beneath your mind's capacity to always win the self-righteous 'believed' ethics imposed unto others and wisely remain silent for awhile.

*Let your life style, active philosophy and true deeds speak for themselves!