Standing outside the broken window of life
Breathing In the poison, feeding on the strife
Crooked perspectives, singular views
Pain or numbness, which ever we choose
Dance, or play the music, either way the same beat
Watching the world die, bitter tasting treat
We watch, like spiders, weaving our web
Spin it out with words, views of life's flow and ebb
Feeding like ticks, off the emotions of others
Be it their actions, or smiles of fake lovers
Empathic designs, binding together
All we, watchers, into forever
This broken window, through which we all stare
Gives prysmic views, though never a glare

Sometimes I smell your hair
and pretend to lay my
chest against you

like on those nights after
building  a pine  fence
around the yard

of  a Baptist preacher’s
house in Georgia
forty miles

from cold beer and café pie,
and then I remember that
was 20 years ago

before you and me
drove different
highways.

Our words are ladders to new concepts,
                    that we never knew could be built.

Cutting through devils flesh, bones and marrows,
Healing sorrow, it's wielders never cold or shallow,
All Divinity or Nature destroyed is healed and harrowed,
Behold, the gift of the Goddess: The Sword of Shadows.

Despite cold hearts making our world a burning hell,
Despite many angels, light bearing souls, who somehow fell,
Despite those taking pleasure from greed, envy and sin,
Warm Hearts realize The Goddess is indeed our kin,

Despite endless waves of lives and death,
Despite moments when even good has lost life and breath,
Despite the sinuous evil and creeping dark,
One receives his Sword when Healthy with Halo and Heart.

For a Sword Bold of times Old, your heart must stay warm,
Even when anger for a purge starts and your mind 's a storm,
May every plot against Humanity forever fold or foil,
A Sword waiting for you, end all turmoil.

With Knowledge gained either thought the art or craft,
Sword of Shadows, Avenging all pains, even future and past...
Only tears shed are that of Love and Joy, no remorse,
To allow our dear Goddess in our world, All rejoice.

A Sword of Shadows for Hearts Brave and True,
Our Goddess Loves all, and has Sword for you.

I see it in
         shades of
liquid coal
  slaking
    my aching
           thirst in
black ocean shoal
      onyx crystals
             washed up
            in tides
       of barely
    peeking,
night-lava eyes
     silently spoken
                   and through
     the waters of deep
my soul is
    waking up from
          eons of sleep
              weaving garlands
             of darkest green,
            seaweed tips
that I tenderly keep
       strewn, in chlorophyll strips  
                      across the stardust glow
                                       of my naked skin
                                     as I liquid float,
                       spirit whirring within
                              eyes bright
                in illuminated
          moonstone glow
picking up signals
of halted flow
This is needed here,
in this darkest of dark
waters abundant
with tight, broken sparks
shards of the living
and fragments of souls
                  a luminosity of darkness
                  making us whole
      And pulsing next to me
   in beauty's surprise
phosphorescent creatures,
     a feast for the eyes
           loving, gently brushing
                my outstretched fingers-
                     bioluminescence divine
                         on my body lingers
                   from jellies to squid
                to jet -hued sharks
    knifing through layers          
     of dark on dark
         within the
lush waters' quiet force
a dance in faded flicker
conjures the source
                 within the depth
                         of the depths
                            of my endlessly
                            wet
          in my darkest of dark
between blood and sweat
penetrating the mysteries
   that quake through
          this heart
         filling it up
  as it tears it apart
         smashing it
    to smithereens
   creating sutures
   of ironic healing
until through the cracks
both wide and slight
        shoots up
the flare
of my own
    inner
          light

Mind sat in the corridors of time
self aware and counting
to see death , the dead,
and one day to join them
how cruel that would be.
Yes I refuse to believe that life ends
why would it when life yearns to live.
life merely changes when needs be
and death is that change I will one day live.