There is something to be said for being forever
That you will exist when my flesh is bone and dust
When my legacy is naught but stony word
You will remain

When no traces of my tears do show
To water the dry earth
To know that you will forever cry in my stead
There is something to be said

And there is something to be said in knowing
That your memory of me will never end
And in your memory I am sheltered
I will remain: an ash amongst the ashes

Can a demon sin against satan?
Lucifer's rules are simple:
Good deeds go severely punished,
And chaos is the reason.

I am from paradise

which never failed to include rainy, cold summers

and heatstroke winters.

Where mountain ranges were as small as pebbles,

and pebbles,

were only meant for skipping.

I am from that spot in the sunset

where the

rustic oranges meet up with the rolling blues of the ocean

and have coffee.

Where endless meets infinity

and everyone wears ugly Christmas sweaters.

I am from where Harriet Tubman

and Nat Turner type dreams take root.

Where black and white meet to make purple,

green, and everything in between.

I am from where dreams fly

and people never stop laughing.

From two way conversations with strangers

and love letters instead of obituaries.

I am from here.

Before the time when things went wrong. Before the time we knew things could go this wrong. Before the initial hook, before the rescue, before the remission. Before the loss and before the pain. Before the creation of such a substance. Before the need for such a substance. Before, substance. Before the lost memories, the funeral. Before the hospital sirens and before the need for hospital sirens. Before mortality, immortality, and the strive for either. Before dependency. Before the time of wanting to stop. Before the time of needing to stop. Before being strong was not enough. Before the break, the collapse, the relapse. Before the prayer for redemption. Before the need for redemption. Before redemption.

Before it was too late.