Speak to me sweet child of summer rain.
I urge you, step forward and lend your hand.
I promise nothing but to ease the pain.
Unconditional love with no demand.

Silence pierced across your mundane plane.
You grasp the straw of melancholy truth.
Tonight, a secret reborn in the rain.
No end in the consumption of your youth.

We simply strive for an echo of blue.
A desert filled with the dead's sifting songs.
I cannot help but think of tastes of you.
Darkened moments harken the sin along.

Nevertheless, I embrace the twilight
as god guides me to the ink laden night.

Resting gently upon a film delicate as the spider's silk,
the rose-tinted angels offer their peaceful tune.
A poet watches in peace with men of his ilk.
Finding beauty in the light of the moon.

A frog's cry echoes to a swan song's swoon.
Still, the angel floats idly with grace,
its romantic flair lighting the lagoon.
I grow warm and a smile graces my face.

Oh sweet waterlily, fire in my eye.
I pray for your light. Let it never die.

I taste an afterthought of blue.
Melancholy wrapped in my tongue.
I want to slide into the river.
Someday I'll find the house on the hill.
Until then I shall scratch.

Thoughts of elderberry rest on his lips.
The poison dripping softly down the chin.
A gasp for air, one final love's eclipse.
Abruptly, the devils rise from within.

Clenching at the mottled Juniper Tree.
Their eyes glint of gold, their teeth gnash the bones.
His violet stained brow grows wild and free.
Frenzy takes hold and they throw the first stones.

A jam forms of berries, blood, and bruises.
Their echoed cackles buried in the sand.
Tear-stained ink blots, his soul he abuses.
Only then shall he find his helping hand.

A beginning's end as abrupt as rain.
A tale we shall tell again and again.

I held joy in the outstretched palm of my hand.
Love held aloft amidst the burning flame.
A peaceful sea gave way to tranquility.
I lost the momentary peace amidst the drops of rain.

Prayer for adolescent peacemaking.
Song for moments of smoke and pain.
Destroyed and buried now we rest.
Left for dead, immortal in ash and name alone.

Who do you think the tourniquet twists?
Perhaps a stranger is within out midst.
A sign points upwards, a god points down.
Mirrors aligned. the angels now frown.

Far away the devil sits in his sorrow.
Leaves his kingdom, waits for tomorrow.
Ashes and murk rest at his feet.
For the ends to the ends must meet.

Will you remember a shadow's glance
as it pierces into your mind and soul?

Or perhaps the hollow dead man's dance
brings nothing more than embers and coal.

Droplets of Dramamine carried away
into swirling seafoam, your spirits lift.

Touched down, the eve of the curs'd day,
the tide of your life surely must shift.

Peer into the cold pearlescent mist.
Shimmy and shine, and then idly fade.

A tepid balance, struggle to coexist.
With finality, the earth meets the *****.