She bared my heart, that I did not know I owned,
and led me to the light. To redemption? Back to Hell?
To some in between twilight...

He saved my life, but ****** my soul,
confusing me my way. To Love?! To Hate?!
To find a hole and hide away...

I scream her name...
But I am alone, and only unrepentant ghosts can hear.

He can never know...
That much- Thank God- I know that much is clear.

I cry, and Demons are not moved;
To them, seeing a man in pain- even their king- is a sight not so queer.

I cry, and Angels do not care;
The only waters shed in heaven are joyful, pious tears.

When I left, my soul came again unlatched;
and my heart closed, left again to cruelty's treason.

When I returned, my wings were intact;
but my heart burned for the reason.

Though you thought I hid
my face from shame;
All the rage and pain... for you? All I did,
I would do it all again.

When you left, to my shame,
my heart followed you to Hell.
Though you wear such rage and pain...
I confess you wear it well.

But he can never know my shame
But you do not care to hear my pain.

I took the path less travelled by,
and found to my chagrin
that the path I walked was paved in good intentions
and devoid of friend and kin.

Though in walking those trails, I only meant well,
The herd is the entity that most oft prevails;
The lion devours the lone gazelle,
who of the well worn path did not avail.

On your pilgrimage to Earth, you learnt of cruelty and of man.
They ripped your wings from out your back, and left you in the dirt.
Now you try to dull the hurt, but jealous of beauty, they come again.
You try to sing but voices crack, in time with hearts that house their hurt.

On my pilgrimage from Hell, I learn of love and its mistakes.
I saw their abuse, and I attacked;
thought my rage could shield you from your pain.
and I learnt far more of pain coming back
than Hell could ever teach; I learnt of love in vain.

Though I meant to save you, I merely left you afraid
of the violence I used to deliver you from their wretched grasp.
I knew near at once the price I'd paid
when those blue eyes gave tears; when those red lips gasped
at the monster whose face by horns was framed.
I broke your heart when I broke their backs;
You heard only my roar when I whispered your name.

I longed to be the chorus in your Angelic song,
                                                    or even a single, lovely note.
Not this phantom dissonance in your sad refrain....
                                                    T­his lonely shadow in the smoke.

We've had my challenges which went quite well
We've had The Who's Awesome series which opened
a lot of eyes. For the record everyone who posts here
good, bad, liked or disliked is awesome.

But this time something different, something that's
really going to put you on the spot should you choose
to participate.

Just write 8 or 10 lines about another writer, why and what
you like about them.

The catch..... If your a man your chosen person has to be
a member of the opposite *** and visa versa.

This could be challenging.

I don't know what you think of the word "wicked";
but where I come from it's a funny thing. It doesn't mean evil or sad.
We say "That's wicked cool." It's meaning rings the same as, "That's the ticket!"
Wicked means more; and more hope can't be all that bad.

I guess what I'm saying is, you're "Wicked" nice.
Despite your talent, your wall is full of other people's "Hope".
Vanity is certainly not your choicest vice.
Empathy, perhaps, would better fit the scope.

Your story's still being written down; I'm not sure where that path will stray.
I don't know if it will end in fire or ice- or if either would suffice-
but were Robert Frost here, (and from my home town) he'd say
"I've heard the name. That chick's wicked dope."
Thanks for being Wicked Cool, Wicked Hope

Love her like
She's the raging sea,
Unrestrained and dark and deep.
And you crave her touch
Through aching pores
As you slowly drown in sleep.

Love her like
She's the tender storm,
A lovely shade of grey.
Like with every whiff
Of breath she takes,
She's taking yours away.

Love her like
She's the silent clouds
With calmness floating by.
Like you'd want to make
Sweet love to her
Under the moon's apocalyptic eye.

Love her like
She's the blazing fire,
And you lust the candied pain.
Like she's the disease
That swallowed you whole
And you'd like to die again.

When her gentle touch
Makes your chest explode,
And your addiction is your girl.
Promise you'll love her
Through hell and back,
Or don't you dare love her at all.

....              Growing up,
I                     thought I was the hero in our family. You never whipped out hate                 in the form of a belt; You never left a mark. But it didn't hurt your                case any less; It didn't hurt us any less. I offered my bruised
face                for you to vent your rage on; I took hard words and hard shoves
so...            the rest of them didn't have to. (You had too many kids by the way.)


"Go              for broke" doesn't apply when it comes to kids. With Mom
away"          you never had a chance, and I get that, but seven punching bags?
"Stop              at two in the next life, don't go for seven. You couldn't handle
it."                  You didn't deserve us, I don't care if you do now. Do
"You               even deserve us now? You've changed, you're stronger. You
are                 not the man you used to be, and I get that. But that man was fine
hurting          me whenever he didn't get his way, or work went bad. You left
me."                alone in the dark to rot into this hateful, bitter man I am today.

You                are a good father, now. You're raising the youngest with so much
care.              But I don't know if that's enough for me. God help me, but
I                     can't forgive you, even now. Even after all the effort I
know             you're putting in, because it's not for my sake. It's for his, and
that                isn't good enough. It's too little too late. I'd sign "I love you" but...

I just
don't
any more.