I find peace amoung the dead
Souls free From the mortal
I find peace amoung the dead
At peace I find the answers
Stairing at the unkown,
I find the calm.
The screams inside my world the tears and agony
Come to a halt to lay at the feet of the dead..
Strange it is that my peace comes at the price of the dead.
How soon is too soon
to dance under the moon
stars for angels
your eyes the reason to smile
or are they the reason for all the positives ever?
I like you a lot
more than you realize,
and not so much you-
your role in this physical 3D world
or even your actions, words
but mostly just the sum total
of all you have been, are becoming
the energy you unknowingly give me
an essence I suppose
of someone greater than man
aand yes you are one
a damn fine specimen to be exact
but it's as if I am subliminally attracted
to your very existence
on a level that makes me believe in a God
in beautiful souls,
yours being the most divine
and I can feel it
the moment it enters a room
near or far
anywhere in the world
I know that you Are,
your physical self holding all that is You
and every second is made more perfect, serene
because you are gracing this world
with your being that is so right
I am willing, no grateful for the chance
to be vulnerable to such a person,
bow in your presence,
feel all you are
and to offer up all I have
to make you happy, prove my worth
and in the moments we are together
I can assure you
all the atoms in my body freeze,
my heart becomes still
for you have such a calming affect
that all I can do is smile
and hope to all that is in the universe
that I may somehow give you
as much happiness
as you selflessly give me.
Dawn slipped through the dusty blinds
of the chipping white condo
in the middle of the city
Soft, pale light
like the sallowness of her late son's cheeks
stuck in broken bars
to the far wall of the living room
The tiny yellow canary
in its iron prison
did not sing
with boldened headlines
lay open on the kitchen table
The neighbours ignored the fake white lily
laying quitely on the cement,
cracked with cold,
the blue recycling bin
that had never been taken from the curb
the letter in the mailbox
that had never been read
The murmur of the news
floating from the television
that was always buzzing
filled her head with the static of
And her head, it seemed
was at the bottom of
Slowly, the electric blue light
was lifted with white fingers
from the grey sky, through the blinds
She sighed heavily.
She hated watching television in the dark.
I'm planting seeds in December
I planted One for love
Two for peace
Three for every moment I felt the breath of eternity
slipping through your lips as I brushed mine across your flesh
gracefully grazing with my fingers
the curve in your back
Healing the strain and tension that your work had let in
I held my left hand above your skin
and prayed the pain that had sunk in
would flow into me
I drew it out persistently
I took it all in a heart beat
and I watched as your mind drifted off quitely
Hoping it would lead you into serenity
With my right hand I projected
all the beauty I had collected
while watching the sun decend sleepily into the sea
and I witnessed you exhale all the trials you faced recently
My hands now taking you into a vast journey
Your conscious mind lulled into sleep
and I talked with you telepathically
Tracing the points sensationally
Touching upon subjects that needed to be
Soulfully blessing the night with a gift of insight
My love I felt everything
Unthawing the earth with the spark of spiritual empathy
I planted four seeds for always
and five for our hopes
The six I had left I repeated the first three
and I watched them grow
Two bonded effortlessly
into One being
Forget-me-nots began flourishing
being poetic sometimes just comes to you naturally. the words flow through you onto the paper in a beautiful rythmic way and they paint an emotional landscape of thoughts and feelings but then someone sees it finds all the flaws all the things that made you feel it was yours that made you feel unique ruined. you feel exposed, hurt, scared. you hide from yourself you won't let your muse out for fear of having your art distroyed altered and corrupted. so you change you pick up a brush you dip it in the paint and you let the flow begin again. your strokes are thrown at the canvas where you feel the anger, your strokes become detailed and gentle when you feel happiness or calm emotions. but then someone sees it they see only the flaws they tear it apart and you along with it. where the lines are jagged from your anger and disappointment they only see uneveness and imperfection. where the shading is uneven from the sadness and the pain they only see imperfection they can't see what precious beauty lay deep inside the painting and the use there words to hurt you to make you feel like you were wrong like your not doing good enough. so you swear never to touch a brush again you will never let yourself flow with emotions like that ever again you tell yourself. but then you change you learn to play the piano you learn to make your fingers glide across the keys in the same was a figure skater glides across the ice. and with each key stroke you heart beats a note that flows out through the piano like blood through your vains. it feels natual it feels good it makes you feel alive you let go. everything comes out everything you feel and think flows through your fingers the notes of your heart beat expressed through the notes of the piano. the feel of the ivory on your finger tips becomes unnoticable you beome one with the flow of the music your heart beats in time with the rhythm of you soul of your music. and then someone hears it they come in and they take a seat and for a while they listen then they stand up and without a word they leave the room and you continue to play you let your flow continue you pay no mind to the person who just left the room. they return they have brought people with them and they sit quitely and say nothing. you stop playing you stand nod to each aknowlegeing their presense and then leave because the music wasn't for them it wasn't for them to judge even though as you leave you hear the people talk about how amazing they felt you were you no longer care they approval or disapproval means nothing its no longer about your art being good or being acceptable its about being...
Death was not unfamilar to me. I'd killed my share of things classified as monsters. I wasn't complaining really, my job kept the humans safe. I just felt guilty, I was practically a monster myself. They call us Warriors of the night, we're not Vampires, we are born with extra strenght and a long life span. I was born a long time ago, I was raised to kill monsters that terrorize the human race. Since I was six, I'd been trained to kill. I was a killing machine, best of my kind. Yet somehow, even though what I do is considered an honor, I don't feel proud. I've been doing my job much to long, and lately I'd began getting sloppy with my work. God knows Rowan would be one pissed of boss if he heard about me letting the group of baby Werewolves. I wasn't a complete heartless bastard to kill a bunch of babies.
I might've been two years ago, before the whole incident happened. I layed my head in my hands, I couldn't go there, not now. I needed a clear head. My small apartment in Master Singu's house was getting messy. I hadn't had time to clean lately with all of the monster attacks that had been popping up lately. Ghouls, Goblins, Oni, Ogre, you name it and it's been attacking. Wasn't much we could do with the Banshee, they were more of a signifier then a monster. A signifier of death, and usually they gave me a heads up if the person who's house it's been surrounding, is gonna die. Banshee were cruel looking creatures, never gotten to close to one, they make damn sure of that. Not sure I ever want to. They were ruled by the one and only, Death. And i will gladly stay as far from death as possible. Haven't heard too many good things about him. Death is one of the Four horsemen. Scariest bastards in the underworld, and I would gladly never meet any of deaths brothers or sisters, what ever the gender their welcome to stay away. There was a soft knock on my door, io glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already three. Warriors worked night shift basically, since thats the time most monsters like to come out.
The victorian styled door was a black cherry carved wood, with a ancient symbols carved in so no evil spirit couls cross into my apartment, so I wasnt worried any monster was at my door. But I was suprised to see Cameron when I opened the door. Cameron and I used to work the nights together until he'd gone off and gotten married to Sylvia, who was a vampire. Vampires were only considered monsters when they didnt follow the rules. No feeding off of unwilling people, only donors, and they couldnt go around killing people. Their biggest rule though was not to tell any human what they were, Warriors like me had a lot of people to execute.
"Cameron, never thought I'd see you around here anymore," just as I was talking to him I realized, Cameron looked scared and desperate. Unlike someone who spent his life killing evil monsters that were twice the size of him. " What's wrong Cameron?" He shook his head and walked past me, through the door and into the living room. "It's Sylvia, Theon please help me," Camerons voice was going all thick and his eye's all watery. This was deffinetly something bad. " Tell me, what has happened with Sylvia?" I needed Cameron in his most focused form to help me out, but as I looked at the shaking man I knew he was beyond that. " You remember the king vampire we took down to save Sylvia?" Cameron said quitely, but I knew instantly what vampire he was talking about. That vampire had killed Abelia. I quickly swept that from my mind and focused back on Cameron. " Yes I remember, " I had no idea where Cameron was going with this. " You remember his brother than, the one that got away, he said that we would both pay. He, ah, made you pay that day. I never thought that he would carry out with his threat. He kidnapped Sylvia, and Sylvia is pregnant, " Cameron almost lost it right there.
I never thought that, pip squeak of a vampire had it in him, but he was smart and possesed powers we hadn't known about until we had come across them. Their king that we had slayed, had been capturing girls of all species and abusing them in such barbaric ways.
We had to put an end to his affairs, and we did but his brother wasn't too happy about it. He'd done one of his tricks and manifested behind Abelia and snapped her neck. Everything for me had stopped, all I could hear was the blood in my veins. I didn't breath, I could still remember the deafining roar I had unleashed as my monster had gripped me, took the reins and killed all of the mans servants.
Blood had bathed the walls that night, not even the crickets dared to sing. The sun rose late that morning, and I sat inside this very apartment, on that very couch, and cried. For the very first time, I had cried until my eye's swelled shut, until my throat could bare no more. Until I passed out.
"We'll get them back Cameron, don't worry. For now get some rest, we'll start investigating later tonight, I have meeting to attend," I was going to kill that bastard when I found him. He had taken my only love from me, and he would pay this time, I would make that absoultely certain. Cameron nodded and headed for the door. It was a long way back to his house, and he crossed quite a few bridges. I didn't want him making any bad decisions, " Cameron you can crash here, I have a guest room your welcome here man," I say casually so he doesn't get all prideful. He stops and looks at me for a moment then nods " Yeah, thanks man, and also thank you for agreeing to help me on this I know it's a bit of a touchy subject for you, just know i appreciate it." He made his way down the hall, I listened for the soft click of the door shuting before i went to leave.
I grabbed my coat, and the keys to my Ducatti and ducked out the door. The hallway was long and at the end of it was two flights of srairs, I lived on the third floor. My motorcycle was parked right were I left it, it was a beauty. Black and red sleek metal and nice leather seats. I loved the bike so much I had named her Racer. I loved to drive fast, and so did she. I tore off out of the parking lot and listened to the purr of her engine on the way to Rowan's , my boss, office. It wasnt to far, but I wasn't in a rush either so i took the long road just to stall. I knew Rowan planned on giving me a partner. Probably some douche that didnt know his way around a swiss army blade, let alone a sword. Warriors didnt use guns unless absoultely necessary. I loved the feel of my sword slicing through the air. I didn't, however, enjoy the noisy bang of a gun. A sword was like another limb, you have to trust it to take you were you need to go.
Rowan's office light was on, and I could make out the form of three bodies. Great, I knew it, Rowan was going to assign me a partner.
I hated partners, the only one I'd ever slightly enjoyed had been Cameron. I got off my bike, patted the seat for good luck, and made my way into Rowans office. When I pulled open the door I was ready to yell at Rowan for even thinking of giving me a partner, instead i dropped my hand off the doorknob. " Holy shit," was all I coluld say. I was stunned to silence.
And I bow down to him,
In excitment and grace.
Praising His name.
The One that I can thank for it all,
The One that proves,
He'll catch me if I fall.
The closer I get,
The bigger the smile.
I have never felt like this.
Forevers been a while.
This is what I've always been looking for,
He quitely waited for me to choose the right door.
He'll be with me Forever.
Give me eternal life.
No one understands
Hell is as cold as ice.
Find Him now.
He's patiently waiting.
Do it now,
There's no need for debating.
He will show you the love you've forever searched for.
Wrap his arms around you,
You'll need nothing more!
Foever doesn't mean
Love of life.
It wasnt invinted
For husband and wife.
I now know
He is the something Ive always searched for
The statement is true
One that closes opens the next door!! :-) Have a Blessed Day!!!
Take a moment to look around
Now, tell me what you've found
You saw her wrist with a butterfly,
then, you watched it die
You saw her fall to the ground,
she didn't make a sound
You went over and looked her in the eye,
then, you saw her cry
You quitely looked down,
and saw a girl, with scars abound
Now, do you understand why I want you to try,
try to stay alive?
the world is screaming at me,
no, no, no!
it's screaming at me to die,
to leave because i should never have been here in the first place.
so i call myself names in my head
(over and over and over.)
the world is screaming at me,
why, why, why!
it doesn't understand why i'm here
it thinks i'm good for nothing
it thinks i'm a waste of time
so i hit myself and i punch myself right in the face.
(over and over and over.)
the world is screaming at me,
you, you, you!
it thinks i am bad
it thinks i am responsible for the terribleness,
and i am.
so i hate myself
hate, hate, hate myself
until i can hate no more
until i fall asleep and dream of more terriblenes.
the world is screaming at me,
die, die, die!
and it doesn't stop
so i hide in my bed and shrink instead of growing
and in that darkness,
that dark comfortableness,
i quitely go to sleep.
We spend another night up on the phone
Me lying in bed
Completely awake and wishing
...we could hang up
That we could stay up together all night
Under different circumstances
You hold that boy over a toilet bowl
and tell him things like
...I hate you
It's okay and don't worry you're alright
...but I wish that I wasn't helping
As you help your roommate who
drank just a little too much vodka
He sobs, trashed, and tells us not to fight
to hold on to what we have
...you two are perfect
That he made a mistake last time
...I miss her, that can't happen to them
As he throws up again
And again and again into that welcoming bowl
So you let him sleep under your towels while
I promise I'll stay awake on the phone with you
...please let me sleep
And I do, as I promised so quitely
...let me go, please let me sleep
Like a good boy you put him in the recovery postition
and check his pulse just in case, out of worry
And he lives to see another day
As we both knew that he would
...he will never learn
he doesn't remember a thing, nothing at all
...the monster doesn't even say thank you
So we, sleepless, struggle through our day
And he lives without the memory of his vodka and tears