The sky is overcast today
I feel as though it’s an omen
Of what I am not certain
But it will remain
In the back of my mind
Until I self fulfill
The prophecy I set for myself

Quol Del-Amonroth
Of mist and slumberstone
The stars guide me to you
Though you I've never known

And though you are but shadow
Your days of glory past,
I feel that if I find you
I'll claim what I now lack

So silver sun and blazing moon
Guide my feet that I may soon
Stand before those hallowed gates
Where once I stood in sleeping state

To enter in, for none have tried
Since long before the Earth had died
Now in that sleep beyond all death
Awake again that I might rest

Poetry is a part of my heart
I dare say a part of my being
Without the release of emotion
there is nothing else so freeing

It's not just words arranged
No, its more than that I say
It's emotion and experience together
In a mesmerizing mental display

I've always written so personally
about my life and details, that's true
but I think that for me, poetry is
a culmination of feelings I can't undo

Words are born on a blank page
and my pen dances to the song of my soul
Unleashed and exposed, each word
forming stanzas until I feel whole

I'm in love, I'm in lust, I'm in danger, I'm endangered
I want to take your breath away
And I wanna take my own away too
Wait
Did you catch that saying?
I live for love and don't want to live anymore
That's insane

It's a contradiction between contrasted conflicts that pulls my emotions to apathy when I want to care

I'd give everything to give everything again, but I gave it once and have nothing left but memories of when you left, so turn left while I turn right and imagine a world where I make things right by writing it all out

Then I'll run out of words to say that I love you still even when my heart is still and I've moved to the great beyond
Beyond hopes and dreams and heartache and pain
Darling this isn't a game but we played it all the same, & the smile of yours that used to greet me now grieves me

You can't hear my voice read this but you still hear the desperation; I'm depressed and don't know what to do when I only knew of you; it doesn't matter, since this matter will one day turn to dust and ash

(will be red instead of green holding up an AR-15 instead of a torch)

Give me your bloodied
Your poor dead souls
Your huddled masses
Crouching in fear
On the concentration Camp's floor
Become someone's
Wretched refuge teeming
By the score
Send these now to me the Homeless
Bullet riddled  bodies lying on the floor
I lift up my spotlight
To see the young and the Old lying in the door