"The Sun still brightens dead flower, a reminder that things can have beauty in death.
Dead or alive, both cast a shadow equally as dark.
Forgotten or not, a flower can have new life in the mind."

Your plow,
Lost deep,
In the warmth of my soil,
My bellows exhuasted now,
This day the final hope,
When,
Autumn leaves....

You flood the corridors of my mind
With teachings of empty promises
Intended for the blind

Holy lies, forced on my eyes
A poison now swells in my veins

In self-fulfilling prophecy
You create a hell on earth
Burned, I rise from the ashes of my childhood

Well intentions, wound just as deep
These burns my only keepsake

From my innocence
I craft my disguise
to blend with those who believe your lies

As an imposter among my peers
None of which, can ever see my tears

Hidden now I lay,
No amount of your fear
Will bring me back near

Your cross,
The prison which you will hang

A cold night with the wind cutting right through it.
My anguish being swept up in all the rising thoughts.
The sound of rustling leaves running through the streets.
Startle me as they pass my feet.

Funny how the moon can bathe away the pain,
Other times just illuminate it brighter.
Hard to blame the moon for keeping the darkness lit.

When I was 10, I had a hamster.
Its whole world was in my room,
It's life in the hands of a child.

My whole world was on 10 acres of land,
In the hands of two grown children.
Their hands as reckless as mine.

How does something grow within a cage.
Does freedom have a place in it's mind.
How to acquire the thoughts of freedom,
Of peace.
Will the captured know when the cage door is gone, with nothing holding it in.
How will it even recognize grass underfoot,
A world beyond 10 acres,
and the hamster wheel gone.

A confluence of those
who followed the river's flow,
This power of growth,
One that could build a city,
That frigid feeling,
Pulsing deep in your being,
Causing the desire to burn,
To stay with escaping breath.

A misstep, cool golden bubbles,
now flowing over the concrete,
An awkward laugh and glance,
Your tousled hair, streaming over your eyes,
This moment searing so deeply,
Will quickly be a drop of time,
Lost in the ocean of your mind.

With the world as your
muse
Your thirst grows for beautiful
views
That will take you to faraway
places
Into rare alpine air
Which will entail a climbing
thrill
But that caused your unfortunate
spill
Now in this incapacitated
state
You have your toil with a painful heal
And you have to beg the world to
wait
But the world will watch with endless eyes
As we have to laugh at our eventual demise