never has nature blessed on any one face
so sublime the treasures men seek
never ever has since a thousand ships
were launched has the world
seen beauty abound as fair
and uncommon;
Where nature has been harsh
to so many I see,
she was storing up all
her wonders
to bestow on you, my dear,
there " 'bout your dimples
those pursed ruby red lips
eyes deeper that any sea's depth",
but she , nature, may have stopped skin deep,
for I thinks, thou doth know
and enchant your own self
more than any man,
therefore the saying of
beauty is more
than skin deep.
Oh, oh how  I know, now,
oh fair, fair fairest
of all!

The home died,
from out to inside.
The life slowly drained,
souls slowly taken,
but the stories remain.
The home died,
became empty, cold.
Yet the memories stay,
buried in walls,
concealed by doors,
hidden under couches,
built by broken windows.
The home died,
along with the lives
whom used to thrive.

Once again, we're set to head off,
all of our belongings cramped and boxed up.
We're hoping this will finally be our place to settle down,
but we'll keep our stuff like this,
just in advance for the next town.
It won't be our home and I know this,
we'll just have to leave again and again,
never finding a place that we'll actually fit,
but I'll keep these thoughts boxed up,
in order not to get my thoughts down.
We'll keep our stuff boxed up,
in order to be ready for the next town.
It's just a continous cycle of moving around.

It's not about the way you live
neither is it about how you die.*
In this Life what counts is the
in between, the people you met
those you love and those you hate
the moments shared, the pictures taken
years of pain, tears in the rain
to those happy as a child with a toy
drowning in the deepest of joy.
It's about the adventures
and the adventure's always in the journey,
whether alone or with a friend
it isn't about your travels' end...
Always make the best of whatever lies
between hello and goodbye
for in the end that's all that would
have mattered for the beauty of all
reality and the ugly is in the betwixt.

You foolish beings
You left the safety of the trees with
a plentiful diet of fruits , nuts and berries
You acquired a taste for blood that -
sent you to your knees
Your protein addicted brains developed
tools to inflict pain , to carve flesh ,
introducing your animal brethren to the pang of
uncontrolled , calculated , violent death
Today , we continue to watch from the branches
Thankful for the power of flight
To distance ourselves from your -
destruction with all our might* ..

Each droplet once full of essence
then concealed in the curtains
of consumed emptiness.

Bliss was the fulfilment of censorship,
desolation encompassed the relative
reactions of that one drop.

But that was all it took for with that
decayed stretch it spelt the decree
that nothing escaped its reach.