“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.” ~ Maria Robinson

The story we are living,
Has ended it’s beginning,  
The ending we are nearing,
Will change if we are fearing.

The ending’s final show,
Will depend on all you know.
And everything we’ve learned,
Has been a treasure earned.

The way we shape our fate,
With our bold excess of hate,
How the pain’s inflicted,
With the way our lives conflicted.

The start has ended poorly,
But has not ruined the story.
The ****** may bring light,
Our fancies may take flight.

But somehow we all know,
That the ending’s final show,
Will be what we deserve,
Unless we cause a curve.

Our independent hate,
Should now disintegrate.
And every single conflict,
We should finally end it.

We should make our new ending,
Differ from our beginning.
By doing what is right,
The ****** brings us light.

Wings as black and sleek as leather,
Flawlessly proceed.
To transform and bend the weather,
Until it will concede.

Her eyes are deep and violet,
Her memories asleep.
You cannot reconcile it,
As she will never weep.

Darkness emanates from her,
As light does from the sun.
There will never be a cure,
For her until she’s won.

Her voice calls out to all the trees,
That cage her there to die.
Her family will never free,
Her from her endless lie.

So she sits and plots a plan,
Of deep and dark revenge.
How she will destroy the land,
Her death she will avenge.

She’ll come back when all is done,
With wings of violet fire.
She’ll destroy everyone,
And her rage will never tire.

So she sits and ponders here,
For vengeance of her death.
And she need have no more fear,
Of a weak last breath.

Where the city kisses sky,
And the wind hugs the trees,
Your image is held holy,
And remembered in my mind.

And when the oceans waves sing out,
With the rocks on which they pound,
It compares not to your voice,
So divine is that pure sound.

No feeling can compare,
To the thrills that you supply,
When you simply use your hand,
To gently hold mine.

You live a life not quite worth living.
Tell me, how is it befitting
to dance around and laugh all day
yet, underneath, house all this pain?
It isn't right to cry at night
And in the morn' say it's alright.
Pretending life is worth your while:
That, my dear, is called denial.
If you can laugh and dance at day,
Then surely you can stand to say
That laughing isn't half the fun
When you're laughing alone without anyone.
And dancing by yourself can be
Anguish no one ever sees.
If you can stand to do all this,
You're strong enough to invent bliss.
But when you smile it doesn't hide
The agony you feel inside.
And your dancing isn't giddy steps;
It's pain inside your lost heart's depths.
Dancing solemnly with a ghost of a grin,
You're waiting for this life to end.
But to say this is life would be a lie;
This is just what happens before you die.

We walked that day down by the bay on water sand and stone.
The ocean grey without Sun's rays. We strolled along alone.
The thoughts expressed were ours to test, to like or simply hate.
The moon: our guest who, on wave crests, would brightly radiate.
We talked of nonsense, evanescence, and things that we'd never see.
We discussed reliance placed on an alliance to an unorthodox degree.
With ideas of this place that floats lonely in space and is sometimes referred to as Earth,
We allowed time to erase and love to encase the feelings we'd endured since birth.
We talked of prose, realistic goals, but dismissed that subject for sprites,
Which began talk of ghosts, we were spirit engrossed, for we heard them crying each night.
Life after death we debated in depth, The existence of Heaven and Hell.
Until all that was left was the time filled with breath; our lives were all we had to tell.
Secrets were revealed and our lips were sealed for there was no one who needed to hear
All of the things we feel or the things we'd concealed; our passions, our hopes, and our fears.
Now nothing was hiding inside or dividing us from each other; we were one.
And our hearts were inviting, this feeling enticing us to courageously face the Sun.
For the rest of our days I hope this feeling stays and never abandons me.
Even though our hair greys, our hearts have been at play since that walk years ago by the sea.

Looking down on the tops,
Of buildings in the city.
People surfing in flip flops,
All so itty bitty.

Then the Lake of Salt in Utah,
And the Rockies' peaks.
Below us people never saw,
Our small gasoline leak.

We were almost down to earth,
in Penn's chocolate town.
When the plane's strong girth,
Burst and then went crashing down.

Then flames engulfed the engines first,
The wings were next to burn.
The people all around me cursed,
As my stomach began to churn.

I could feel the flames fast falling,
Popping filled my ears.
The stranger next to me was calling,
A daughter who was in tears.

He didn't know how to tell
a young girl he wouldn't be back.
I watched him closely as we fell.
He looked to me and said, "I'm Jack."

My last thought before the chaos,
Was that this man was kind.
Amid a world of dread lay us.
But to it, Jack was blind.

The games of fun and make believe have gone,
And soon the memories will dissipate.
Just as the Moon eludes the Sun at dawn,
So fun will evade your future state.

Faeries you imagined will slowly fade,
The castles in the sky will crumble down.
Logic will crush this haven you have made,
Reality will cause mermaids to drown.

You can't escape the nature of your mind,
The pretend friends have always disappeared.
As years advance we descend from cloud nine,
Just as each generation always fears.

The tragedy of this realization:
We lose true friends of imagination.