Helpless,
Precious,
Daunting silent variances of light
Dancing.

Going under,
For a time

Rescue
The bad bones
Of our past

Tiger blood
Milkman

I never thought I'd matter
To anyone

Until you
Came along

And changed my perspective
Of the universe

You made me feel
Like I matter

And I'm grateful
For you.

"Hi Children,"

She turns, mystically endowed with a sense of something greater still.

"Please enjoy this story, it is old and foretold without a soul to behold."


"Darkness is a place, fewer men know still"

"Where shadows are lonely and vicarious, tilted visions of sorrow"

"My darling"

She points to a small child in the front row, a girl seemingly clueless to the world around her.

"The arrow bends beneath the snow but life it takes for me to grow"

All the children are now listening.

"I've place the bets, and now I know"

"The darkness seeks another reef to hallow its only begotten dream"

They know it now, you know..The ending. They grew up beside each other, fighting each other, loving each other. Someday you will realize all of the reasons why you surrendered. Why you chose to caress a care that spoke of there being something....

greater.

I miss you
Like the rain misses the blood in my veins

You know they say we are made mostly of water
I drown in you

She watches darkness
I see the light in you

I live in you
Petty phrases and lifeless eyes

People come,
Talk, wander,
Do things that are substitutes,

For what?

I don't know,
People know

I like the idea of beauty
But it's the most evil
It limits you
me,
to itself
and burns us to wretched girth
shadow's of former selves they say

If sorrow is for the poet,
Then mystery is for the dreamer,

I shadow a mince of swollen pride
It batters me
Like a mauling iron
of birth-stone and fire
I surrender

From time
and time again,

I select
A version of indecision so in-vain
I could barley sketch the sheet
or ventilate

Maybe that's all

Who knows

Daring to say words,
Laughing thoughts cause tension,
Like jester's,
knighted into dreary stanzas and contortions

Where are all the mild men?
The one's who count for days
Who swindle the swindler,
The very breath of a man,

Is but...

Don't you?

See the target out there Charles?
Hit that and life will build you a shelter
Charles God has no shelter
No target to hit