I have held in my heart a longing for so long.
Pushed down out of fear,
That someday I would speak
And then you would be gone.

But this spark yearns for fire,
And my heart wishes to beat to the crackle of the flames.
Now I succumb to desire.
Burn against the dying of the light.

Like a fool you make me a grin,
Engulfed in a warmth I cant imagine being free of sin.

Catch my heart aflame,
Then light your arrows in its fire.
Through my soul a barrage beats down,
My shelter now turned to pyre.

And I, too fearful to fight,
Succumb to it all,
Wishing I could not burn,
Or to feel its warmth alone...
Yet all I've known is the searing.

I've never felt such a wave pass through me,
Breaking me down, and building anew,
I heard the whispers between my ears that lead my heart to you.

In days of unknown I wish to find my place at your side,
For only with you have I tried to change for a better life.
Sealed within a vault was where my heart once remained,
Now under your presence, not even these doors help my restraint.

For my heart sees not the need,
To resist your smile,
But fear rears its head,
And tells me to hide.
I am not accustomed to such a plague,
And it tears me in two,
For from love, and fear,
I wish not to lose you.

This palace is grand.

Roses lined the roads that entered,
And a crisp green carpeted the plains that lay beside.

The marble columns rose to the sky,
Their sharp white sending glimmers into the distance.

Warmth filled the rooms,
As too did the scent of Maplewood crackling within the fireplace.

Mould grew spotilly on the ceiling above,
It complimented the flaking metal of the bedframe.
A hole in the ceiling dribbled water onto the damp pillow.
Drip.Drip.Drip.

This palace is grand.

Through the glade you'll find a place,
Where the first of a trail is laid.
Run it over mountains to summits atop,
And back down to the canyons below.

Through the forest ammased with the skrawny remains of the trees that once reigned, yet journey on a path of gold.
Over bridges, where blood and bones run below,
And monsters sit in darkness and smoke, waiting till the time their presence may be known.

Follow the trail,
Sets sights not on the bread, but the path ahead.
A Gingerbread house with icing upon it's walls, only a facade, it'll be too late to see before it falls.

Out I stepped,
The grass filling the spaces beneath my toes
As the fresh scents of nature mingled beneath my nose.

The wind blew steady and the flowers swayed in the breeze,
And as I stood beneath the shade of the trees, a lone flower did blow to my feet.

A Daffodil.
It was a little odd though,
As the garden did not show its kind.
Yet here it was, at my feet, and now on my mind.

I glanced around and off to the side, stood a plant on a table,
Embraced beneath the sunlight.

It took me a while, but soon the plant was in the ground.
Daffodils bobbing in the wind,
The flower that only knows 'begin'.

Lately I dwell on the idea of holding hands.
An act so simple yet so human in it's nature.
An act of love.

When palms interlock,
Two become one.
We abandon the use of an appendage
For the idea of closeness.

Therein lies our humanity,
Seen in such a simple act.
We are always willing to give for love.