It don't matter what I do
It don't matter what u say
Who I am
Where I've been
It means nothing
We all come to a end

I see clearly now
I am just a beat
Just a name
A number
I feel free
Don't expect anything from me

I am no one
I am nothingness
I'm not lost
The world is
It all comes to the end

Memory's
Life
My name
I'm Natasha mckay
But
we all energy
That will rejoin
Energy

The end
I'm not scared
I'm not dead
I'm just seeing
Like a new born child
I mean nothing

I am nothing.

But energy.

I see everything.

Hatred sits upon his throne of skulls and bones wearing a crown of fire and a robe of blood and thinks on ******* Love.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum

perhaps it is the weather
a prolonged absence of the sun
or presence of the winter cold
or just a temporary fashion

the media as well as many webbéd sites
simply abound with dreary blather
     of lovers lost and death so cold
     the lonesomeness of every single soul
     and how s/he suffers when s/he writes
spelled out at length with no discretion

we know that people suffer from depression
or unquenchable anger at the world
and how through proper treatments
you can considerably relieve the pain

fix them in words is one of them
    but may not be enough
sometimes a mix of pills and pen
may do the trick and help you
    write yourself through your misty prison walls
    discover unlocked doors hidden in plain sight
    step out into the sunshine
        from the darkest night

you are the sun
    whose radiance illuminates the world
    lends brilliance to your life
    sheds light on everything you’ve done

and soon you’ll notice
even the weather is getting bether …

grief can be a temptation
and relief

you plunge into it
immerse yourself
dive to its depths
look at the world
as through a glass
darkly

you meet the others there
   who plunged before
you talk to them and feel
the water slowly rising in your body
and recognize that they
drowned years ago
and you have not

yet