Seamstress sew me a line of word
Make it colourful,
Make it stand out,
She did it, the words weaved in and out
One over the other,
They flowed vibrantly,
She was a master at sewing word
Her pins were
Pencil
&
Pen
Woven with each, shades came out
Each told a story, a life of its own
Happiness
Darkness
Terror
&
Joy
What was asked, she would sew
Every stich was new in her mind
To sew a word profound,
All took time
Once stitched there was no going back,
It was complete
Colourful,
Dark,
The words woven  in style
Like it or not,
Her woven words stitched to the page
This seamstress of ink and lead,
Now waiting to once again sew words
Upon a blank page...

~


Come float with me on velvet sound
As music floats the evening air
With melodies of hope now found
And timeless days we both shall share

The setting sun of curtains bright
So full of life and amber glow
Does dance the heavens curtained light
Brought forth in this, its daily show

To walk this course, the songs we sing
That lovers feel and hearts do shine
As harmonies of dusk now ring
In rhythms which are set to time

For dreams you see are cast in gold
With linings shimmering the sky
Till twilight lends its somber soul
Of silhouettes to pass us by

Where shadows play a subtle game
To win but only heart's desire
And passions form the poet's flame
In words that you alone require

Of patterns pure on violet skies
Enlightened as the moon beams pass
To see your face before my eyes
And feel your touch does come at last

For it is always what I dream
In lasting sound of lyrics true
To lay before this twilight scene
And sing the song of love to you

Stuck in this deep depression of denial,
Waiting for the day of my internal revival.
Smothered by complacency,
An overwhelming intensity.
Almost done with my goodbyes,
Sickening sorrows & sparkling cyanide.
I'm a product of interest,
Put up for display.
Waging my battle of empathy
and apathy every night and day.
I am a self-destructive travesty,
Delighted in self-inflicted agony.
These masochistic realities do not stray.
They've made their home where at night I pray.
In my closet and in my mind;
They incapacitate me,
and leave me confined.
Run fast, run free.
This is what they tell me.
Run fast past the gilded bars.
I'll be free of this monstrosity,
When I can count the stars.
In the mean time, I shall wait.
For my internal revival to arrive.
For this is an intricately crafted game,
And the weak never survive.