O’er looking your life from above,
Not as high as the clouds,
Not as chaotic as the bounds,
But just as that dove.
Sometimes glances were exchanged,
As if I were there.
I’d touch your hair with my eyes’ range
Only to find your hand
Yearning to escape
My love of sand.
-And down it crumbles along the beach of fictitious bliss

Down it Goes
Down those petals go…
Just as the water flows
Into that Black Hole
Of Deceit, Nothingness,
And Sorrow.

A sibling asked, “Why?”
but the world can’t know,--
won’t know--
doesn’t need to know.
For all the burden to be carried
must not be tried
by those who peril along for life.

A girl asked, “Who?”
The beaten path cannot be changed,
Forever maimed by the unforgiving pain.
All That One knows is
That something
occurred.

But He said, “I know.”
Of all the oblivious existence
That surrounded That One,
One knew who had done the bearing
Of that something
That occurred.

No one asked, “What?”
What took place during the dark morn’?
What became of One?
What had He done?
The truth that spilled
Was the opposite of He:
“I don’t know, had a course been run?”

That One sprawled on the floor,
With the bareness left in horror
For the closed to see.
T’was a weight so heavy,
So wary,
So weary.
Everyone saw light
Because all had been blinded
By that daunting,
Aweing
Fright.

All One knows is that what still remains is the untainted,
And unfeigned,
uncertainty.
And if it could be anymore,
The forever knocking,
Roaring
Door
Left a wholly,
Holy
Scar

To be untouched and caused
By That Something that occurred
Which had ridden
To a fear so hidden,

But One’s fault became known as:
The Stumble Upon The Backpack Of Burden.

Right I am, the Birth of births.
Let them cry out: “It has sprung!”
To the point of no return,
some suffer.
Among them I am left hung.

***** things dreams can do,
Tantalize forever or creeping the minds.
Great things wishes can do,
Beasts are severed
And looting the finds.

Here the story sails,
With life to no avail.

Darkness is clarity and
Light is blinding
The question came to appearance
as to what I would fulfill in the distance.
Truth fled in terror into
the safekeeping company of Deceiving and Trickery.
Lord, help, am I a heretic?
Or it’s just nature?
Ex Machina feels as I,
Am I right?
Or this unknown thing correct?
Beliefs in Faiths confuses I,
for I do not know any more.

It was the biggest lie ever told,
Tears as evidence for the cunning sin.
What am I to do?
I’ve lost everything—
I’ve lost confidence—
I’ve lost hope—
I’ve lost warmth.
Since among these,
I can’t trust myself.
Why not let others lead me,
Instead of the Life I’m supposed to enjoy?

Well, I’ve lived another day in the Self-Battle.
Today was the roughest out of all because
In the house of my Father was where I thought
It was wise to start losing the fight.
But no, this war will surpass the Hundred Years!
I’d seen a glimpse of firefight on the field.
But if I am to remain there,
My only hope is to think of mine close to me.
This is why I do not engage in war.
Eventually, you will believe the noose was your birth.
But I had it wrong all along.
If I lose the Great Self Battle,
It shall ripple across the oceans
Like those in the Middle of the World.
My company of conflict
Will be afflicted by my cause
And there will be no point of return.
As I write my romanticized letter of gruesome bloodshed,
Just know I’ve hidden an empty letter and envelope
To soon fill needs of despair, anguish, and agony.
For the day I stop looking forward to the sun
During the burning rays of God,
Is the day you will find:
The Gun triggered,
The Rope tied,
The Guillotine released,
And the emptiness to be filled
With the sadness of my words,
Loneliness,
And nonexistent love of others.

I always through Cupid had one arrow
but instead, he has a quiver
and now I stand here with ****** love
and leave my body to shiver
He sends down a rain of them
and I can only watch and stare
I'd like to say I'm shielding you
protecting you
but instead, he is simply aiming at me
My heart's been shot down
I am his target
but your eyes are the gun
and the blinks are the trigger
Cupid's love arrow is not a game
it is simply pain

Now that I've woken from the morphine
it feels like a hangover
I can't get rid of--
it feels like cancer in my body
that has no cure--
it feels like a drug
that I've seemed to overdose--
Where's the gauze
to cover my bullet wounds?
Where's the gas
to seal my tomb?
I've only found a needle filled with poison
and a bottle labeled Toxic.
But I simply need Jack Daniels
to drown my worries
and a knife to my Aorta,
my heart a tree full of sap
to be used as extract.
Hand me the scissors nurse!
I have the hands of a skilled surgeon!
On this operating table, here I lay
to amputate myself, alone,
and cut off all ties with Love.

Aphrodite found me curled in a corner,
hiding in the dark shadows of the room.
I've been a soldier
abandoned in the battlefield--and boom!
Something causes me to falter.
It's the emotion in the night, I assume,
that stalks me as prey, the predator.
I am in fright, and it'll loom--
Venus's touch makes me shudder,
I am Echo with no sound to use,
I am left in solitude and confined to endure...

Love's the same,
it's all tame,
no one to blame,
since I decided and came
to play the game,
my heart a burning flame,
but no one to share its aim.

I love someone.
You don't reciprocate.
You're Everyone.