At last,
Abashed at the rash decisions of my heart,

The crash amassed the crass dealings of my past,
Fast,
The class to mask the blast,

Hide.

~Robert van Lingen

My problem is I fear.

I hold on.

I never know when to give up.

I blindly wave my hands in front of me in hopes that I'll find a hidden door to paradise,

Althewhile I fully expect to never find something that will allow me to stop wandering.

If that wasn't enough,
I drag the locked doors that I find along the way behind me in hopes that,
one day,
they'll magically open.

The written word,
The smitten hurt,
Dance hand in hand,

Step to the silent beat,
Wave your hands at the paper white,
Send me write to my dreams,

~Robert van Lingen

Miles and Miles, the isles file away,
Walking past, walking fast, and I find myself astray,

Bleeding deep and needing peace,
Let fly one more tear,


I find myself in need of that which I never knew I never had,

But wait,
The novel forever unfinished,
Read me one more page.

~Robert van Lingen

If a picture is worth a thousand words,
How many a memory?

I could read your eyes for a thousand years and it would be only the start,

Suffice to say,
I've written more than a few.

~Robert van Lingen

Dry,
Stale,
Pale in comparison to a heart dancing in tune,

Waltz to the songs my memories play,
Stand in the hand that plucks my strings,

Sing to me, Sing to me,
Your Siren Song

~Robert van Lingen

Hello, again.
He who whispers my name when I'm alone.
Hello again,
Cold winters' breath.
Cold splinters' kept...

Who are you to strip from me everything I love?
In every joy, you follow close behind to let me have a taste, only
to wrench from me my only wish, my reason, my rhyme,
function, and goal.

Only you can make hell burn hotter,
Take my mother and I will cry,
Take my love and I will fall,
Take my friends?

You spit in my face at every turn,
Kick my heels on every step and stride.
You utter into my ears your sadistic songs.

To you I say,
Go to hell,
I'll keep on walking.

~Robert van Lingen