The emptiness
It consumes me
Like the dark consumes the light
And the sadness consumes the happiness
As dawn turns to dusk
And the nightingales sing their sweet melody
I pray to God
That one day we shall be reunited
Six feet under the ground
When my Inner demons will have taken over me
Just as yours let you slip away on your bedroom floor

Some secrets
Ought to be kept alone
Ready to wait
Ready to die
You made me this way

Not once did I flinch
Only did I fear that you

Might try again
Or maybe take things farther. Id
Rather not think about it for
Every time I do, I become                                           *S T R O N G E R

when the evergreen withers
to a winter unseen
her green turns ginger
and her lips turn faint
her feathered child dies with the chill
and the hollowed out home hums no merry tune today
she who kept the gleeful number quaint
she who broke the silence of the ached  
now lies timber on the fires of rage
slowly turn to orange ambers
that lit the night of a candle-less grieving

A pulp of flower is more sweet when murdered
crushed by a stone to its death
unrecognizable by its creator,
his mother, his branch, his roots,
To be rotten and to fall
from its heaven on a tree
where he no longer smiles
amongst the bloomed and amidst the pretty
his fall turned to be
his greatest accomplishment,
death his blooded ****** in the arms of the killer unknown
thankfully the monster came soon
for his vanquishment brought more redolence
than he could spread when he was perched,
when bloomed to his last petal
and when kissed by the ray of a morning sun.

thus he bares the crown of hope
not knowing his subjects disloyal to his cause
he stretches his wings with not a glimmer of doubt
that his comrade shall catch him when he falls
he who stands proud perched in the cliff of lies
dives from above to show courage to his ally
but as the welkin cries and the earth be rattled
he plummets to his death on the rocky foot of the mountain
where the green eyed raven had gathered for their royal feast
and the shrubs be drenched with dewdrops of ruby.
a treasure that no crate shall hold.
he whose life hath gone to waste
and he who saw the gates before us
his wisdom thru death and pain thru living
shall resonate the message of the vale masking loyalty
for in guilt and in conscience they come to his burial
and sing praises of the dead mans crown

rid me from my duties
for my riddance will bring but peace
they need not my heart but my company for them to feast
i'm a fool for their amusement
a madman whose lost his way
oh how heaven adores me
for when i leave you
it would be sway.
**** my king and steal my throne
for my walls are down and broke
strip me bare of my love for life
I don't need someone else
to make stay.

what use of a scented stick of wax
from a sitting piece of wax
for it must burn in the flames
and cry to its death
for its fragrance for the world to be heard