Resting blindly with smoke staining his teeth,
a white flag stuffed in his jeans' back pocket.
a tongue tied, trapped by the words underneath.
He holds tightly to a rusted locket.

Placing it nestled closely to his chest.
He smiles for life. It's truly his best.
He smiles for love. He shall hold it yet.
He smiles for light. He will not forget.

Come now.
Chin up.
Eyes wide.
Stomp on.
Dance boy.
Dance boy.
Dance.
Dance.
Dance.

Do not fear the silence of solitude.
Embrace it as a father his lost son.
Allow it to consume you in its chill.
For better or worse it shall shape your soul.

Thank your stars for each moment spent alone.
Learn to love your mind, and call it your home.
If not it shall destroy you.
You shall be nothing but sin.

The ink of these letters soak through parchment
leaving stains on the maple underneath.
You look down at them on a later day,
and wonder what it was you'd thought to say.

May you please lay my weary head to rest
as the blade erupts with rubies in Spring.
I sit in my ivory tower's nest,
pulling puppets by their shadow-spun string.

I ponder and play, squeezing idle joy.
Wondering, perhaps I shall see you soon.
If not, I return to my tepid ploy.
A sallow moth, rotted in his cocoon.

A clock strikes and the siren's song erupts.
Yellow wallpaper reveals my sin's seams.
I close my eyes and this fear I shall disrupt.
I must embrace the love within my dreams.

Draw a line in the sand and sleep upon
its precipice.
Bury its words in a soup of your blood
and prejudice.

Cast your gaze to the horizon with the
blossoming truth.
Shades of purple, red, and yellow reflect
your waning youth.

Whisper to the wind, let it draw your words
across her mind.
Softly smile, let the chill announce that
you're out of time.

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.