She rose from the dead
Claiming the red cases
those keys that heed hate
and bleed the hateful fate

She captured and locked gates
behind a fenced hell circle
where portions are affixed
and souls are trapped in control

She is strangled and wrangled
past the norm,existence zones
inside the spirals of the lost moon
where demons lie and litter ties

She is as strong as the Zion tribe
a lioness with a majestic touch
that propels and tunnels courage
In an afterbirth of the untied ...praises strolls

I color my life
with the whole box of crayons.
The jumbo king box that gives
me variety that's the spice of life.

Red becomes like hues of lips I kiss day with in gratitude. By cheeks pinched by sun and cool breeze.

Blue to draw sky I walk under. By feelings of sadness that need to make way for safire diamonds in heart.

Yellow to scetch a rising sun that accents day. By yellow wings that fly gracefully making me sing.

Green exploding in hands to grow tall trees with flowers grand. By grassroots that tickle feet to expand dreams.

I could go on for 300 miles the colors in my box so I will curtail it to one more thing. The rainbow I draw in mind and heart. The one I follow and weave in conscious that carries every color ever imagined.

And there I wander comforted by a woven rainbow fabric in all kinds of weather