In the dragons cave filled with treasure.  
with a warning you did not heed
eyes of blue become green eyes with slits
as the curse of the dragon hits.  
Your heartbeat racing faster than ever before
sweat drips from every pore
skin becoming scaly and green.
Blackened claws burst through fingernails
legs and arms flail about
sickening crunches as bones grow and reform
the storm the rage of fiery dragons breath
forms in your lungs
burning all things in your path
as you exhale with a roar
horns pierce through skin and scales
break through your forehead
It hurts even more
as your jaw breaks and moves forward
into a reptile form
teeth lengthen and grow sharp
muscles expand and strengthen
tendons stretch and lengthen
nostrils flare
caught within the glare
of the mirror the witch put there
in the dragons cave
you won't be a slave
anymore as you seek vengeance
from her and the other humans
forevermore.

In the whisperer of the nights breeze
in the murmur of words she softly said 
I knew she wasn’t really dead
in the movement of the trees outside, with their leaves
the way the photo album opened with ease
the noise of your footsteps chased me to bed 
dreams of you linger in my head
I am left longing for you to tease
things I swear move on their own
sometimes i can hear the rattling of plates
I am never ever left alone
I am the man who sits and waits
hearing the noise of the television drone 
I hear your voice it communicates.

When the only snow you see in December is in your snow globe
When the only Christmas spirit is alcohol
When you've filled up on too much on Christmas food
and the super market cashier is being rude
When your turkey won't cook
and kids and toys are making too much noise
and the adult boys are out for the count after eating
and your so tired you feel like you've taken a beating
when Christmas telly is all repeats
and you are the only person in the street without decorations
and you are left alone to make preparations for the big day.
When you've got a stinking man flue cold that won't go away
and the smell of cold Brussel sprouts is like mould
and you've been told that this Christmas hasn't met expectations
and the box of chocolate sensations has all gone
Remember it's one day and it'll all too soon be over.

Hero

In the lost words of language
In the gaping hordes of time
There stands a hero
He fights with rhyme
For the pen is mightier than the sword
His words we lean upon
In the maelstrom in the eye of the storm of silence
His words cascade like a fountain
A tranquil place in a sea of violent words
Great big man monsters attack him with verbs
Birds peck at his eyes with profanities
and troll him on Facebook.
But he doesn't care, he barely looks
For his heart is strong as is his soul
and he breathes in air
and exhales poetry.

You laid in the graveyard
Wanting all the ghosts of children, men and women to return to bodies anew
Like you were the Christ and all your burning blood was like his holy love
You laid in the graveyard and your suffering grew.
You pretended that you'd stabbed yourself a wound true
With a blade as Dark as obsidian
Like your pain
Like you were ending your life the way you came
Drenched in blood but not screaming or a birthing cry just wanting to die
Your mind wanted some affirmation
of power, of saving grace
misguided by your tortured young face
The covenant of god to man
Seems to misunderstand
Why we are here?
to grow?
to nurture or to disappear?
Hopefully wiser than we began
Covered in hope and withstanding our own fear.

Dopamine dreams
Scream escape.

Is it too late to confront and accept
The fears that have crept
Into this weeping mind?

I don't remember much of my childhood
Ignorance is blind
The adult doesn't mind
But my child self dreams of trauma
It's thorns burrowing in.
But where there are thorns
Roses can bloom
If I fight I can give happiness room to grow
For through knowing the lowest heartache
In the spectrum of pain
can the sunshine and rain
Nurture the roses of happiness and joy
Because the contrast will buoy the soul
and love dwells in the heart that has seen both joy and tears
and empathises both with people who know despair and joy
for there is truth in both sides
and their worlds sometimes collide.

I wasn’t born in generation X
I got lost well before we got to that letter
I wasn’t born a jet setter
I just make use of air travel
I find myself trying to find a reason
For my life somewhere between God and evolution
I think I will find the solution
In between trying not to get drunk with my mates
and getting a job that I can enjoy with better pay rates
I find my generation is lost in comfort driven fashion craving
It is my generation that I think needs saving
From ourselves.



A generation lost its head to computer games
A generation lost its morals for 5minutes of fame
A generation lost its battle with drug addiction
A generation has lost its sanity
Oh calamity
A generation has lost its faith in modern life
God and evolution and theories
make this generation groan and feel weary with despair
This generation counts the cost of being branded lost
and believing that it is so
but help them to know
that they need to follow their own way
and not to stray from that path
because the aftermath of following your own path can be success.