I sit under the trees
these ancient beauties
with wealth and power

The deep rooted secrets
of the past and future

The barks peel and shed
as they reveal the crux

The fruity sap to sate
The pines fall to scorn
At the heart of my grave
The casket where I lay
Visioned,blunt and blurred*
As the sun squares the soil
The branches pave way
The leaves flavour the day

On the ground I walk to reach
I am alive, dead and blessed
I can't feel the throb and pace
I can't hear the cries and pain

On the sky I live in the light
I can't see the dark phrase
I can't touch the old I left
I can't sense the faces I knew

On the ground I walk and reached
A new place of euphoric twist
A destination totally unseen
A scent of the summery lavender

On the bridge I run across
The weight of the change undone
The body and the heart are mine
*My eyes, the soul are a rebirth

The conversational instrumentals
reply to each other harmoniously
the drum pounds,the rumbles pumps
as the skyline shine on mountains

The cas cas attach the drifty clouds
the C major smiles inside the beats
melodies of the G clef arrest the rest
a spell of keyboard appraised in praise

The trumpet screams as a saint
on the shadows of the lighted hall
the wall on the edge of the mall
a fusion of hope the unsung treaties

In the west the sound of the ancestors
appease my piece, to seek a forgone peace
inside the overrated and haunted world
of indifference and utter misfortune

Is there a difference,
give us a reference,
between a stalker,
and a pokemon.

The monger hits news,
game spots and toss,
time lost and chaos,
with a pokemon.

In Canada......
The rule breakers,
cross the borders,
an inadvertently walk,
for a pokemon.

In Guatemala city .......
The teenage boy,
under the wizard,
die in the cause,
for a pokemon.

In London.......
The go players,
ambushed in public,
and robbed by trees,
all for pokemon.

In Africa.....
The rumble,
then scrambles,
to get the last,
the dusts of pokeman.

In Asia...........
No signs too,
they tire and wait,
for the nostalgia,
all for pokeman.

In New York.....
It's a no, no,
for *** offenders,
or become criminals,
All for pokeman.

Poke me man,
NO *******!
It's all crazy,
the apocalypse,
of freaks and creatures!

Poke me man!
I DARE YOU NOT!
Go find old cards,
a bank of more funds,
all for pokemon.

Poke me man!
I POCKET YOU!
As phones hide,
their lunch hunt,
the herd of pokemon.

The calm wind,
strokes the ****.
The world drives,
the primes and hives,
of mad and trance.

The numb toes,
mounted moles.
The world drives,
the time and halves,
of mad and trance.

The chaos one,
does not know.
The world drives,
the wars and tyranny,
of mad and trance.

The feel of alive,
a touch of humanity.
The world drives,
justice of the immortals,
of mad and trance.

Peasants and pennies,
the drop of dime.
The world drives,
waters and commotions,
of mad and trance.

The fire in the alleyway,
burns the broomstick.
The world drives,
the dead and sad witches,
of mad and trance.

The bohemian ode,
nympomanics and satyriasis,
The world drives,
the desires and passions,
of mad and trance.

The sainted troops,
stalks, mocks, traps.
The world drives,
the obedience of lies,
in the mad and trance.

To these words,
I whisk my pen.
Lay my fortune,
and my silence.

To these words,
I give an oath.
Give my sword,
offer my soul.

To these words,
I live day by day.
As they renew,
restore and guide.

To these words,
The blood flows,
a-coursing my veins.
As I leap in hounds.

To these words,
whose tone capture.
Then possess,
in raptures.

To these words,
my lifetime.
My passion,
and obsession.

To these words,
that entwine.
A link to my spirit,
my lifetime trinity.

Lay on the pagan rocks,
whisper the ancient gods.
Let the energy transform
and part ways to a past.

A different time where,
lay beliefs were customary.
A place where horses,
galloped and the roses prickly.

A kiss that meant a promise,
the forever that meant it's worth.
The portions that never worked,
but melted love in pungent rocks.

The bitter togetherness in the woods,
the sweeter regrets of the nooks.
A euphoric ****** of emotions,
rendered tones, the lily hues.

Take it all and tie it with cotton,
fasten the rope and compress it.
Neglect us in the highlands,
way over those barren valleys.

We woke up again, the clouds are the same
We rouse again, the soil on the earth is the same
When the night draws we lock and dream
When the day storms we exist as labour machines