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Demons
Kind of devels
Ghosts of hell
Controling the bell
Drugged, undercover
the soul of whisperers
Black angel with dark blue
Real astonish eyes

Sun rises , he's gone
Sun goes , he's here
Timeless
Searching special blood
From people slained rudely
That's his awful way
To show emotions
The glory of respect
It's all from my imagination ! Sorry because all my poems are like this (about demons and killing , ......)
 Feb 2014 Myron Penwell
Nik Bland
She said the days were far too long and heaven too far away
And I had not a way or word to comfort her that day
Her smooth skin would show me wounds that no one else had seen
And that she walked the nightmarish journey to reach the shining dream
No stars showed in her eyes that day as she spoke her personal truth
The minutes, hours, days, months, and years that had beaten her since youth
She said the night had been far from kind and in turned she longed for sun
But the sun had yet to shine and the dark was far from done
I had no words for there were none, on tongue or fingertips
No comfort in my shadowed touch for her quivering lips
And so I stood without arms in the face of a battle with her soul upon display
As stars fell in her truth-filled tears, with heaven so far away
 Feb 2014 Myron Penwell
Gabriel
Fast forward in time,
To a place that was then,
Transform the mind,
With less than paper penned Zen.
To find a believable center,
That was never quite seen,
No matter the bantered canter,
That pace that was always obscene.
But in the base of your fear,
All aspects are yet forgivable,
How is this an ever lustful portent,
Through prudent eyes so beautiful,
An ever-blending portrait,
But I am no harbinger,
No bringer of the rain,
Nor am I the carpenter,
Or finder of your sane,
I am merely the one left standing,
Standing in sardonically soaked pain,
With very real thoughts,
That I am the one who is insane.

But for love I can't complain....
 Feb 2014 Myron Penwell
Gabriel
On the dark side of the moon
The light is always more blinding
One may hear a patterned tune
But Sol is no less binding
In the deepest black remains a torrent
Energy flows in all directions
A pulsing eruption of active current
The source of all of life's connections
Forces infused in superb creation
Energy powers our vivid dreams
Seen in a bright fiery demonstration
Found at backbone of cosmic seams
And every blistering binary star
Energy pumping from a quasar bazaar
So simple, black and white.
Pages and keys make musical flight.
I approach the bench with so much ease,
Movement in my fingers begs for release!
I sit, I breathe. Ready myself.
My spiritual life to be ripped off the shelf.
For here, I unwind, relax, and be still.
My God is with me, praise him, I will.
There is no comparison to the feeling of ivory,
Beneath my fingers, music lively,
Or somber, or meaningful. Anything goes.
Painted digits, frolicking to and fro.
My worries and doubts from me vanish.
Between black and white. Moments I cherish.
 Feb 2014 Myron Penwell
Nadrah
Take my hand,
and let's hop on every stars we've seen,
dance with me on the moons of Jupiter,
waltz around the milky way,
tango with me on that rock up there.
Let's float with fairy dusts
stuck on our icy cold lashes.
Take my hand
and let's form a constellation
of two lovers holding hands.
Let's be the falling stars
that they wished upon.
Take my hand
and let's travel together.
With every book we've read,
our journey starts there.
From Wonderland to Neverland.
**Close your eyes,we're heading somewhere.

— The End —