Your bodkin, seeking my heart if straight,will find it's target quick,
I'll gladly die an honorable death, still remembering the arrows of cupid,
but if your sword, stealthily moves from behind, in deceit, cuts me down,
denigrates love, let darkness shout, from  where once love solemnly stood,
you'll have to be on your knees to seek forgiveness for this sin, it's no win.

It has been many moons since these translucent eyes set forth the bellowing cries of a whispered hymn. The cries of those long since forgotten, briefly heard, myopic, blind to the background sound of our nestled unruly world. The white noise that paints the landscape continually resetting itself in a desperate attempt to regain its foothold in our lives. It is this fight for free reign that forever brings me here. Brings me to each infinitesimal moment in life where we as the white noise fight for dominance over our subconscious realm.

Leery of what we experience with our senses and what we experience with the extensions of. Touching everything with our nothing making sure that the existence that we live is not just a state of mind but an actuality. We are self-altruistic, in this i am sure, for we care about the well being of ourselves. No state of mind left behind this is our status quo. Let it be that no mirror binds you to your own failures nor to those that look onto from a distance. Let you be your own shadow let your own shadow not be a former representation of what is but what's to come. Let your shadow be effectively that of which you strive. Let the shovels of ill will be fated to bury themselves hand in hand with those that foster it. Stand firm in your position overcome only by the mountains of your own design.

These peaks scream out echoes of your hate and shame not for you, nay. Not for I, nay. but for those that challenge what you stand for because the earth beneath our feet stands for everyone. stands stained with bloodied tears that rained down from our glorified manufactured heaven. This epoch marks the second coming of our custom, individualized, patent-pending, rights reserved, copyrighted Christ; our self-proclaimed god. self-proclaimed because we are the gods we seek, we ignore, and we pray for. the effervescent pool of life reads no running so we segue our way on this Segway to take advantage of the loopholes we ourselves placed as if only to cheat our fabricated reality because rebellion is refreshing and different but only when no one else is looking.

i'm a burnt marshmallow
     i'm that soft mushy fluff
in between the chocolate  
    and the graham *******

"C'mon Stevie you got to show them what you're made off!"
"I did and your mother was very impressed."

"C'mon Stevie you got to show them what you're made off!"
"I auditioned but they said I was too big."

"C'mon Stevie you got to show them what you're made off!"
"You do realise that Kathryn Janeway reffered to me everytime she said 'Captain's Log' don't you?"

"C'mon Stevie you need to go out more and show the world what you can do."
I can't, I'm like Japanese ****. Entirely censored.

"Come inside"
chuckles

"Can I come over?"
"You"
"What?"
"What?"

"*******!"
"You're On!"

"*******"
"."

"C'mon Stevie show em what you're made off!"
"Have you read this?"