Perfect in your imperfection,
Sweetness in your indiscretion,
Tainted by the blackened world,
A diamond in the unclaimed murk. 
A friend to me (I'd dare say more),
More a woman, less a *****.
What more could youth want to entail?
Your soul so strong, your heart so frail.
Sorry won't be necessary,
I've learned that lesson and very rarely
I'll lean back in to a memory
Lost in the past, barely ready
For harsh reality's mortal slap:
My own idiocy, my own relapse.
I play with your sisters, you choose not to care,
I'll always be sad and I know thats what's fair.
I've learned to accept my own downfall,
I've asked you not to write or call.
You're in my heart as long as I breathe,
The many memories that will never leave.

My soul, my lifeblood.
My dream centre, my chasm of magic
And wonder adorned in
The fabrics of my thoughts and ideas.
Bask and gawk at my truth and scars,
Be warmed by my hate and love,
For my soul is purely mine
And no man woman or child
Could ever reason to take something
So precious to my own self
As my immortal being.
My soul, my lifeblood.

****** up to 15
Never had a chance.
Daddy issues 
Trust problems
Sadist in a corner
Lookin pretty
Lookin tough.

You're just a ***** by nature,
Immune to change.
Maybe a man can mend you
But for now you'll stay the same.

Smart with no money
Emotionally draining
Child at heart
With a grandmas personality.
Break you, bend you,
Make you mine.
You may say you're done
But you're far from fine.

You're just a ***** by nature,
Immune to change.
Maybe a man can mend you
But for now you'll stay the same.

Now you're Brooklyn's problem
With you're whole life ahead.
You may cry and cut yourself
But you're old enough to make you're bed.
Sad because I loved you,
Though I won't admit it.
You're a stones throw away
From a place in my heart,
And even though I care
I guess there's no going back to the start.

You're just a ***** by nature,
Immune to change.
Maybe a man can mend you
But for now you'll stay the same.

Why doesn't the stuff in pretty bows
Make me feel good 
When they're worn by pretty girls?
Mother taught me many things but never how to love.
Why don't butterflies reach my stomach
When I hold a lady's hand
In mine?
Mother taught me many things but never how to love.
What makes a father want to leave
Or a lovely lady cry
When she hasn't even been struck?
Mother taught me many things but never how to love.
What's the medicine in glass bottles
That makes the pain 
"Go away"?
Mother taught me many things but never how to love.
What do you say
When mother lay
In a wooden bed never to wake up?
"Maybe it's because mother never learned to love."

Find me a hole 
Where the red wind blows
And the glitter turns to gold.
Find me a place 
Where the red wind breaks 
And the freedom never strays.
Find me a house
Where I can hang around
And wrap the red wind round.
Find me a field
Where the evil yield 
And the red wind serves the meals.
Give me the trees
Where the red wind leaves
So I can rest with ease.

Pardon my sins,
Forget-me-not,
Pretend it's all over.

Friend, lover,
Woman of mine
I don't mean much anymore.

Lost dream on a setting sun
Lost cause in the long run
Remember me as I was.

I won't say goodbye,
Your all that I want
But I'm not who I was anymore.

You were mine once,
I want you again,
Lover and friend.

I'm still the same boy,
Through apples and oranges,
Just be mine forever and always.

Restless eyes batted senselessly keep me awake.
Numbing illusion grabs hold of my feeble mind and I weep at the thought of my own destruction.
"Savior, savior, where art thou?
Hast thou left me to my own devices?"
Trouble, trouble, all around.
Madness wreaks my daunted mind
Shadows leap the unkept room
Dance back to canto ye demons of old!
Ravishing through the harrows of an untidy brain
Checking for sanity, what little remains,
The pace quickens
The plot thickens 
It's madness in the mind of a passerby!
I see a helpless fellow,
Whose wings are too heavy to let him fly
And his heart too weary to let him abandon his own mortality.
Fool, I say.
Fool for being so careless, where he puts his love. 
Should be kept in a sacred jar
And locked away.
"Nay nay" stranger overhears,
"My heart was right
My heart was just,
I must fight to win what I call mine for love is only given to those who fight for it."
I let him live his fantasy,
Poor boy who committed too many crimes and only wants more chances.
However, I think, persistence is rewarded to those with justice in their hearts.
I think it not too heavy after all. 
And then I wake in the treacherous night
To realize that the boy
Was me.

A veil masks the bride from a groom, covered in black and soot.
The dirt, built over so long, now forces the two deafened to each other.
They do not understand the other anymore, it doesn't not seem the bride cares.
She may take the veil off but chooses not to.
She enjoys the ignorance of her happy isolation, unwilling to face the world again.
Love has been abandoned from her eyes and ears, she sings to herself assuming she is happy.
Her make believe casts the groom into madness, unable to remove the veil unless she allows him.
They are not wed, she misses the world but wishes not to get hurt again.
The groom understands but wants to change it, though his counterpart is unresponsive.
He waits for her to take the veil off, for them to talk. 
Patiently, he wants not to disturb her with muffled noises through the soot.
He looks at other couples and fair maidens, but cannot leave while hope remains.
The hope of a love restored keeps him kneeling at the alter, and drives him insane.
He wishes not to abandon her, for he loves her madly but knows he has done wrong.
He has built the soot on the veil and he knows it.
He can take away the caked mask but only if she lets her.
He is told such is a lost cause, not even wanted by his wife-to-be.
He is unsure what she thinks, though he hopes it is of him.
He wants so badly to be with her, but he knows only time will tell when she will take the mask off.
Worse yet, he knows not whether her decision is final: her taunting no and her agonizing taunts.
He wants her back so very badly, but he does not know how she really feels. 
How do you abandon someone so close?
How do you leave someone you love?
How do you do what you think is right and prove your worth?
You fight.
You use hope as your shield, faith as your spear and love as your sword to fight adversity and right wrongs you don't deserve to amend, because everyone has a spark of good, and those truly sorry will prove their worth with all their might, no matter what the cost.

Bright stars and sunken trees, 
Your everything and more.
Wide clouds and swing sets, 
Your body keeps me warm.
Written letters and set dreams, 
Kiss away the cold.
Friends may leave, times may change
But I'll never let you go.

Trapped in the cocoon of what has become my own life,
I emerge a butterfly through deaths metamorphosis 
And fly on.

One pace north and my kisses are dry
My family waves, the townspeople cry.
Make them proud, return with riches,
Be a good boy, fulfill their wishes.

Ten paces north and the crowd resigns
As I walk past the trees, new oaks and old pines.
I see my family and still hear their clamour,
Hoping to one day return with glamour.

A hundred paces north and I am the road
I know of no county, I have no home.
No longer faces, no longer names,
Empty holes in my pocket as is in my brain.

Countless paces and I'm back where I've started,
Rejoining again with the town I once parted.
Years of travel have weathered my name,
What the road did to me did to my home the same.

So this, I am told, is the traveler's woe,
What was once a warm home is now a cold cove.
I remember the place, though the names are forgotten,
The proud boy died on the road he had trodden.

Chaos, trouble, mysterious air
Shines down from the heavens glorious despair.
The morning star has left his realm
The shining knight has surely fell.
A god once stood among mortal men
Now resides in the backdrop of his own relent,
The voice of a people contently mute
Was pushed, had fallen from shame, the golden chute.
A generation now takes his place,
A crowded room built on Gods disgrace.
A history written on burnt flesh
Cares none of the fearless, the brave, the honest.
A people who carelessly torture poor souls 
Has turned His head to the heavy toll,
One must be paid to replace the strife
Of every man who thinks himself right,
For to each his own (so they say),
A cross for every, a toll to be paid.
Suffering and pleasure never existed in skin
And therefore the traitors are those who give in.
Those who stop fighting have already lost,
The hearts of good men tarnished are the coins for the cost.