I write and the words are empty. I try to fill the page but the meaning is not there. It is as if I am repeating myself and redoing what has been done. The well of ideas has gone empty and the water of creativity will not flow from my soul to my pen. I can only mimic what I see and not truly put my emotions into the work. What can be done when the passion has faded and the words have become hollow?

By Arcassin Burnham


Butterflies and lakes,
Carry signals in and out
into the love gate,
If you're saying that I know her situation
i could probably relate,
Not wanting to do this all the time
But it cannot be replace,
I swear I love her
but she's just thinking that me and him are in a race,
I beat him to the punch and now I'm glad I'm in first place,


She is my dream to see the things that are right in front
Of me,
Don't think for one second I don't know about intimacy,
shes the girl for me in this life of death and luxury,
I made a promise to her long ago that we would be,

shes my history like no other in my dreams,
I take a short breath of the wrong air in this time,
take my hand and we'll run to the stream,
She said she use to be alright in my first line,

like bella and edward , we shine in the lights and sparkle
As if glistening was our middle names
fantasy teens,
kissin in the lake
is it still a dream?

Is she really still someone elses girl?
this i can't redeem.

Every night,
If you'll look closely enough at the sky,
You could see the thousands of Iranian children silently,
Walking trough the minefield,
With plastic keys hanging from their necks
that were promised to bring them
to paradise,
When the mines will
**explode.

" You look at your watch when searching
for the time.
Go to a window, see if the weather is fine.
A book seems to find your hands.
You open it, hoping the first chapter is far
from being bland.
Always something to do.
Always somewhere to go.
Is there ever a time we stay still?
Even in our dreams, we rush for things.
The wheels just keep on turning, with
Gravity stopping us from floating in air.
On the go, on the go.
Trains, buses, cars, and planes.
Look how we grow.
This will never stop. It"s simply Human Nature.
So sad for the one's that get left behind.
All they become is a name and an address on a sheet
of paper."

.
Cantilever tombstones
Gathered in a row
Broken bits of someone else’s deed

Weeds are overgrown
Thorns about the snow
Endless come the struggles as you bleed

Ravens are amassing
High above the trees
Searching for remaining shards of bone

Circling intruders
Cutting through the breeze
Waiting as your sins you now atone

Thicket mangled wings
Fractured fighting fear
Carving sad initials on your skin

Thunder clouds approach
Storms to gather near
Drenching darkened sorrows now begin

Iron barred protrusions
Block the jagged way
Keeping you from exiting this place

Fall upon your knees
This your ending day
Every thought of you to soon erase

Fade into the gravel
Claw this frozen earth
Quickly 'fore a morning sun does crest

Bid a found farewell
Far beyond your birth
Time has come to take your final rest