Is your mind man manipulated?
Do the stars show you what’s ahead?
Does the weather control your emotion?
Is your life worth a few more years of mine locked?
Pick peace apart
You might just find…

****** ON MY HEAD
AN EVANGELIST’S HIGH
IN THE COMPLEXITY OF GOD’S GIFTS
AND THE LOST OF FREEDOM IN RUINS OF A GARDEN
I’VE GOT
****** ON MY HEAD

Another night comes to end replaced by sunrise
Shamefully witnessed through jaded hazel eyes
Morning smiles met with awkward no replies
It seems as if the recreation developed into the demise

a malignant haze
hitherto unnoticed and henceforth witnessed
the struggle of the enlightenment

Everyday is an uphill *****
—a vertical some days
—always picking up the slack;
picking up the pace.
Desperate, delusional,
acts of disgrace,
but how do you ask for forgiveness
with a struggling face?

I wish it were easier
living, that is;
I force life to be easier;
surviving, it is.

How do you tell people
you're suffocating,
when the air on the *****
is dissipating?

I fetched my coat
And walked to the boat
By the dock,
Trying to escape on a whim,
Then realized I didn't know
how to swim.

I decided to paddle
through calm  waters,
To adventure like any other,
Trying to embrace the unknown
then realized in waters deep
My courage overthrown.

I kept pressing on
Through the unclear horizon,
Trying to anchor my fears
and to catch up with time,
I then realized I had drifted for years.

Adrift in a sea of uncertainty,
With waves of doubts crashing against me
I tried to navigate the doldrums
I then realized the harsh reality,
With No refuge found, my spirit succumbs.

Alas, I will keep Rolling the dice
Hoping luck will suffice,
Until the weather is nice again.

halfway along a mired path
with no option but
to gingerly retrace
their mud-caked steps
or simply struggle onwards
careful of each squelch
along that mud-caked path
the dog sits blithely at heel
appearing miserable
in this drizzling rain
but patient for his reward
and willing to wait
following unconditionally
while the man considers
his options and
the next poor decision
he is liable to make

So I will write
A love letter to the flower
That withers not.
Or send a rose to the love
That dies not.
Beauty lying in perpetuity.
My tender passions fulfilled
For everlasting.
Desire turned inside out,
Heaven still lewd.
I will hold on,
I will still love
When all melody stops.
When the drought ends.
In the coldness of hell.
You are the flower
That will still blossom.