I am trapped.
Trapped in Dante's fifth circle.
In the fiery pits of hell, I am drowning.
But there is no water.
I am drowning in my anger.
The anger consumes me,
As do the flames.

Love and lust.
No trust.
They have made me a fool.
I jump around for your amusement,
But am ridiculed for my incompetence.
I will no longer jump for you, my king.

Oh my dear king,
Strong and independent you may be
But modesty is not one of your qualities.
Your ego fills the room.
A massive dragon to consume you with your sins.
Your sins of lust which fill your brain
Will now be thoughts of fire and of pain.

Your queen cannot save you now,
Beautiful and gentle as she may be.
For she is conniving,
Just like the snake on her shoulder.
The snake of hell.
The devil’s brood.

Oh my dear king,
At least that’s what you believe yourself to be.
But no.
You are merely the king of your mind.
Your ego has betrayed you,
Just as you have betrayed me.
As I have been burned by my anger,
So shall you by the fire of your lies.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Does your fool amuse you, my dear king?
Do I make you laugh?
Well here’s the funniest joke of all, my dear king.
You.

For like me you are also a fool.
We are both fools in this game of life.
For we have been fooled by ourselves,
Blinded by our sins and our false pretenses.

But a fool no longer will I be.
For I will repent.
While all hope seems lost,
I will repent for my sins.
Repent for my anger,
For my hate,
For my guilt.
God will quench my thirst,
And I will be born anew in His waters.

What about you, my dear king?
My little fool.

'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.

The reason I don't wear makeup
Is that I don't want there to be
Anything on my face
That distracts you from Me.
And no, I don't look pretty
Buried beneath the layer
Of foundation and gloss.
Because then, I'm barely there.
Only when unadulterated, untouched,
Does my skin look perfect,
Adorned with the best rouge there is-
Which is, my Self.

This is as good as it gets!
For what purpose do I exist.
A cruel joke of Mother Nature?

The Tree of life!
efficiently conjectured,
of Birth & Death.
Responding all, to wind, rain and sun.

The fruit of the tree,
Love, Anger, and Indifference.
must die to become fertile ground.

Such an efficiently cruel cycle.
The tree of life.

Sit with me stranger
And let me tell you a tale
Of magical nights
Beautiful days
Seconds that lasted hours
Years that lasted minutes
And a life that was worth living

We come in this world alone
Kicking and screaming
As if to announce to our other half
I am here
So come and find me

Our better half as some like to say
I agree
For love turns ordinary people
Into extraordinary heroes

A savior, if you will
Guarding us from sorrow, and strife
Protecting us from the evils that plague this Earth
Shielding us from all that would do us harm

Giving us the gift of a perfect day
Where nothing significant occurs
But the day is flawless
With her hand in yours
Under a blanket, searching the stars for answers
While words pass quietly, discussing this crazed thing we call living
The moment lasts forever
As you live it, it feels like eons
And in your mind's eye, it never fades

In that moment you realized that this is why we are born
To find that perfection in someone else
And when you find it, everything is okay
And the times seems to pass in huge spurts
You wake up pressed again them in December
And go to sleep in April, sighing with happy annoyance
At how their hair ended up in your face yet again
But it smells like her, so it is worth it a hundred times

And as you lie there in the moonlight, you look at her
She is so beautiful; there is no equal
You take the time to memorize everything
The curve of her lips, the shape of her eyes
And that night seems to last forever, as you hold her while she sleeps

Flash forward again, and its September
Fall is on its way, and as summer dies, you visit the beach
Dashing through the waves like fools
Splashing each other
Laughing like fools
Happy doing the mundane
for with the right person
The mundane is the amazing

Now mind is clear
as a cloudless sky.
Time then to make a
home in wilderness.

What have I done but
wander with my eyes
in the trees? So I
will build:  wife,
family, and seek
for neighbors.

                     Or I
perish of lonesomeness
or want of food or
lightning or the bear
(must tame the hart
and wear the bear).

And maybe make an image
of my wandering, a little
image—shrine by the
roadside to signify
to traveler that I live
here in the wilderness
awake and at home.