A silence of the tears
Made in the resolve
Of the inner sanctum
In a warm embrace of all
That was and is no more.

Take it to the sky
And limit the pain
With a full hope and empty
The cries that never let out
In a thunderous peace
That can take all the
Hurt an pain
And joy and love
Wrapped into the grace of the
Encountered moment.

The storm which rages
And takes on life as a feeling
Or a thought;
A surge of energy
That keeps in the synergy
Of a non perfect existence;

Rage on life which isn't a feeling
But an existence
How to see fit to
Cloud over the land of your mind.

So I breathe words into
A subtle chaos,
Il portrait a poet that lost
And gained insanity's
Gambit;
Flame into the ice cold heart
And scream from
Drowned lungs
"MORE!"
And it's given where nothing's
Bloom is in full swing,
Take me from this disastrous love
That makes me want
The life passion
In forbidden whispers....

I am Ded inside
So why feel an eruption
Of life when death chases
Me and mind bending
Paranoia takes the place
Of normals paradoxical
Existence;
Nevermore?
Ever more!!!

I live to die of life,
Crazy as it seems,
Feels right.

The new ruse: presidential psychosis
an impartial and swift diagnosis
as you trump-up the charge
but the sign is writ large:
twenty-twenty TRUMP/PENCE the prognosis.

Corrupt psychiatric inspection
serves to further a facile detection:
presidential unfitness.
(But God is our witness;
you're mad 'cause you lost the election.)

As you slander the president's sanity
you exhibit your own inhumanity.
I would urge all you losers
and lying accusers
to listen to Savage and Hannity.

In your desperate drive to impeach
you would grasp what is out of your reach.
The infernal machine
steered by crazy Maxine
makes a nasty mechanical screech.

The Democrat narrative flounders
while our nation's own hateful confounders
promote red revolution
mob-rule as solution
insulting the faith of the Founders.

Though the state-sponsored media lie,
our beleaguered republic must try
to transcend inhumanity;
quell the insanity.
(Both wings are needed to fly.)

Take me as I am,
I will find myself
With a gun to survive me
And a bullet to take all the
Paranoia;
Love the other side
Take the flowers grave
And plant it on the fields
Of sorrow.
I wash my hands of you,
The other one internal:
I **** again,
Another sin, death maternal.

Take it away,
Not this life,
But that one I don't want to live
When I am forced to survive.
I don't want the gun
But it Seems to find me,
I left it in the past,
What's in front of me,
Follows behind me.

**** me,
And death becomes you.