Roses are red
Violets are blue
Time goes by
And I miss you

Just like me
The flowers grew
But soon they wilted
Just like you

You were sweet
This I knew
Like an addiction
I loved you

Now the roses are dead
The violets are too
The garden's all gone
And so are you

Your flowers died
I did too
Because all along
I was you

we hold hands
create a connection

function as one
large being

one heart
one soul
one mind

we feel the energy
an invigorating force

sharing one life
we reach up

through the layer
above us

gain the vision
of the eagle

see across time
and space

into the meaning
of everything

it leaves us
wordless

we take a
vow of silence

My dear,
If I were to write you a song,
I'd surely fill my lungs

My dear,
If I were to write you a letter,
I'd surely kiss the sun
Burst into a thousand flames

My dear,
If I were to write your final words,
My pen would bleed
Of all you've been
And never seen

My dear,
If you learned I wrote your story,
Would you understand
Forgive me the tears
The loss within,
If you knew each line was a beautiful creation of mine?

My dear,
You are always mine
From infants cry
To burial time
Don't despair today
This line will become yesterday
You haven't seen my melodies or poetry
We'll kiss the sun another day.

Some evil walks alone
with a cold heart beat
and a face of bone.
Some evil walks in threes
with a trembling laugh
and with eyes full of glee.
Some evil wears a kindly face
in the street-light chaos
it tempts your full embrace.
Some evil rings a hollow bell
in the whirlwind alleys
on the roads to hell.
Some evil keeps a cool head,
some evil lies in your bed.
Some evil is a ticking clock
lulling you to sleep
with your mind unlocked,
and, while you rest amid
its Mercury lies,
it spreads its wings
and drowns your cries.
Some evil walks alone
with a cold heart beat
and a face of bone.

Suddenly the sun has gone
Away from the lilac skies
The sky's black-blue
Suddenly the sun has gone
Away from the lilac skies
The sky's black-blue
I've caught the flu
I've caught the flu of wintertime

Incandescence through chlorophyll
Visible via the clouds of mist
Dew on leaves
Woolen skin and
Leather gloved fists

New flowers bloom
Dawn's the age of gloom
The merry days of Yuletide
And the days of never-ending nights

Darkened alleys
Seem like mountain valley
My nose can't smell
My throat can't speak
Like the desert my skin is dry

Fiery heaven
These campfires
Peanuts roasting
I can hear their noise

O! These days of sickened voice.
I've caught the flu of wintertime

Incandescence through chlorophyll
Visible via the clouds of mist
Dew on leaves
Woolen skin and
Leather gloved fists

New flowers bloom
Dawn's the age of gloom
The merry days of Yuletide
And the days of never-ending nights

Darkened alleys
Seem like mountain valley
My nose can't smell
My throat can't speak
Like the desert my skin is dry

Fiery heaven
These campfires
Peanuts roasting
I can hear their noise

O! These days of sickened voice.

Red were the roses, the ones I left on your casket,
Orange were the leaves, the ones in your tree,
Yellow were the bruises, the ones that covered you head-to-toe,
Green were the stains, the ones left on the hems of your jeans,
Blue were your lips, the day you were found in your noose,
Indigo was the night sky, that night that you died,
Violet was that bruise, the one you wore around your neck

Is a poet still a poet
If they do not write?

A journal gathering dust,
But a yearning to write.
Am I still a poet
Without my inner light?