Death . . .
the great equalizer.

The surest cure
to brazen  ambition .

Kings , Queens , princes and Popes ,

Generals , dictators , and those with false hopes .

As evil does , so it will be .

Fall so fast and hard
toppled like a cedar tree .

The vine's been cut
the branches wither

All the fruit so vile and bitter

All will burn in the heat of fire ,

the briars and vines and wooden liars .

In the tapestry of existence,  

where shadows dance

upon
    the
      threads
                 of
                     time,  

we find ourselves,  

woven into the fabric of
            our
                        days,  
each s t i t c h a whisper

of what was.

Oh, the heart, a vessel of longing,  

bears the weight of unspoken sorrows, 
 
and in the silence of reflection, 
 
the truth lies h i d d e n, 
 
beneath layers of

                    forgotten

                                          dreams.

Embrace the surrender,  

for in

                           letting

                                                  go,

we find the essence,
  
the sacred truth of our being, 
 
unadorned by the judgments of the past,  

freed from the chains of despair.

In the eclipse of our pain, 
 
the light may seem distant, 
 
yet within the                                darkness, 
 
wisdom stirs,  

a gentle reminder of

                                                               ­          resilience.

Thus, we walk the path anew,
  
not as prisoners of memory, 

but as
                  pilgrims
                                       of
                                                     understanding, 
 
finding beauty in the scars,  

and grace in the

                                    journey

                                                           of

                                                               ­             becoming.

Winter grips the
Harvest tree
Stripped of proof of life
the once-vibrant colors
lay decaying in the dirt
Turned brown like the
Fallow field
The riches that grew there
Hauled away
It feels as if all life
in this place has been
Spirited away
leaving the shed skin
proof of life's abundant harvest
Scattered about like
like a trail of tears
Proof of life escapes me
As my once vibrant colors
Lay decaying on the poem's page
The harvest tree to be
My forever home

Open wide
the gates of Hell
The butterfly effectually
flutters to false intent
from that organelle

From double hearted
wing beats
the flattery will not cease
Proudly inciting insolence
from the center of the beast

It takes a coal
from the altar
that the lips must kiss
To purge all iniquities
to burn on the bliss