I met with a Man with a gun
and the gun defined Man so much

He had a trigger finger
and a bright shiny holster

We started to argue with respect
but in the end

He pulled out his gun
and shot me dead.

The mirror is lying
as it reflects
a confident looking man
instead of the nervous wreck
who has a half baked plan
with a limited time
to construct the jumbled speech
in his head
and end the ceremony
before the vows are said

So this is happening
This is really happening

We call them soldiers
Killing machine that fight for peace
As everything around them is blown to smithereens
They die for a good cause we like to say
Not truly acknowledging that sacrifice they just made
Their dead...
The blood that trickles down stream clearly indicates that
That's something we have become too acquainted with actually
Never truly had a problem with leaving our own behind
Even though in the beginning we preach just the opposite
****, we're sick
Infected with this disease to send one another out to die alone
As we watch them cry begging go home
But there is no home, not for us
If we don't win there will only be misery
Blood rivers that come together to form masses big enough to drown in
But it's the same story even if we do win
Nothing but death

**to be continued

Carrying the fever and heat
Of love’s first flame
I set out on a journey
Expectant and anxious,
Sealed and tight lipped
All emotions bottled.

From port to port I journeyed
Travelling in a little love vessel
What a heavy cargo of dreams I carried
With the scent of memories perfumed

Did a black cat cross my path?

Behind all veils of cloud
Hope lingered
My spirit….
Pulsating inside
My senses….
Waiting for the moment of beatitude!

Skyward I flew
Floating through the air to land
Finally in your trembling hands
Dreaming of a nameless delight
Bursting open at the earliest moment

With my heart beats rising hoarse
You slit my mouth,
Pulled my soul out.
But,
Gnarling at my face
Mercilessly you tore me into bits
And threw me into the bin

In the Westerly wind
Slivers of me flew about
Like ghosts unable to get back to their graves

After whirling naked in the gust of wind
Pieces of me fell down one by one
To lie inert on the ground
Gasping for the final breath

Did the firmament tattooed by stars
Mock at my pitiable plight?

By Arcassin Burnham

We'll cross a pile of dead rainbows to
Make it through the storm,
I say a couple of things to you when my
Words are born
do I have enough anger to face a woman's
Scorn
I'm off today,
But I can't find my way,
I feel so out of place,
Its just another phase,
Souly not entertained,
(Flame!!!)
Be more consistent with your mind and your
Body,

Don't go messin' with those kids,
Their Quite snotty,

Happy for the sake of jubilee,

looking for another beam to get to Scotty,
They'll take away your home's and bury your pride and courage
And make everything your fault,
To keep you worried.