The wind whistles in,
I hear the howl clear.
The air is thick with sin,
As the wind whistles in,
So, safely now begin
To cherish those held dear.
While the wind whistles in,
I hear the howl clear.

So now release me, please, from fear
Of the hollow, vacant, plight.
I hear a dawn grow near,
So now release me, please, from fear.
Heartlessness becoming dear,
I've now connection with the night,
So now release me, please, from fear
Of the hollow, vacant, plight!

I feel a tug on my sweater.
The air grows dark as I,
Full of despair,
Turn my head to find what
Being is at my coattail.

I feel a tug on my sweater,
I turn as the space ahead of me
Is occupied by essence of loving magnificent person.
I turn and see the beautiful world, as a
Being, is at my coattail.

I feel a tug on my sweater
And I question her as to what she came to
ask, and she speaks to me in song.
So lovely are the words uttered from
She who is at my coattail.

So lovely are the words uttered for
Me, a desperate shrew. A hollow shroud falls over
Vacant eyes dripping empty tears onto
A careless walkway. Her serenade sing a sort of
Happy suicide into the icy veins pumping
Soft slush into my heart.
Then suddenly

A chorus arises and I am renewed,
Invigorated.
"Sing goodbye to sorrow,
Save pain for a time when you need smile.
For that pain, in it's essence,
Is only a memoir of hardship that will
Remind the hollowest of souls that
There is happiness."
That there is love.
That there is hope.
That there is wonder,
and wanderlust.
That there is reason.

Fall softly by my side,
Ask me why I feel.
Sing the sound of your heart
And learn the value of mine that you steal.
The truth begs a sort of compliance,
The false brings a sort of discord.
The night brings a sort of silence,
But tonight I sing of reward.
I follow the sound through the end
To see a destination,
I find only a cave in the forest
That is filled with desolation.
Sing solace, sing cheer;
Sing worry and fear.
A song to allure the public,
You make yourself its puppet.

Winter falls silently
On a town hidden in bliss.
As rain drops start falling
We recoil, slither, hiss.
The cold burns our warm skin
And we mutter to ourselves
Of how weather is awful
And we beg for the sun.
But the sun will never
Show its face;
It hides away behind clouds,
Oh it loves such a shroud.
Such a wave it sends
With its powerful chill
As the ice shoots as beams
Straight down to the earth,
Such wonder is cold,
So badly it hurts.

Oh hollow sound,
That chest thumping
Engine does Fire the
Soul, rousing its deep
Slumber amidst the cloud.
The sea boils over as
Insipid statements vacate
My hollow mouth
Drips venom from its limestone,
The stalagmites offer no wave break.
Why resist a tide if the boat
Sinks to the bottom of its own
Will?
Why persist hauling land to you
When it refuses to give?
Loose your minute, release the
Tied string from your hand.
The brain is a ruined, hollow, shell
That falters from its duty of
Assistance.
Give in, desist, relinquish.
Self is lost in my lack of
Helping you.
But I learn.
I improve and I try,
I form my self,
I reform myself.
Taking part in a grand dance of
My soul, I am again made for you.
I must be, I must act, I must help
For you.
I will help,
I will try
I will continue to improve.
I will be,
I will love,
All only for you.

It had been ten days
Since I last saw rain.
The clouds above part
Like ripples in puddles.
A quick burst of shine
And I'm drenched again;
How might I leave?
Might the world bear
Down on me with
Roaring thunder if that
Oak door shuts behind me again?
Am I now alone?
Do I drift till I find more land?
Stay by me, shining star.
Oh, you lovely star
Who brightens my
Clouded mind and leaves
No print behind;
Oh, you beautiful star
Who lightens my
Loaded back and makes
All dreams true,
Would you stay with me?
Please, my sweet,
Do not ever leave,
Do not ever abandon,
What sorrow will ensue
If that flood gate should leave.
I may go,
But I could never part that shine
In your eyes.
I could never leave
A shadow on your soul,
So perfect.
So sweet,
Your perfume permeates
Through every hall of
My cavernous mind.
Do stay with me,
Oh wondrous star,
And keep me sane
For your company.

We want not words
Of rhyme nor reason,
We wish for verbs
Words of doing and done.
No time to be kept,
No analysis of style,
We simply want words
Scattered
About
A page, call it poetry.
The story is there,
No difficulty in
Interpretation,
Is it sin?
To take words from within?
To make in a form that may begin
Or end with endings that are akin?
Any fool might make a story
By breaking up lines in a paragraph,
But can they describe it in emotion?
The diction is gory,
Chopped up, sing epitaph,
A poem written in commotion.
A rhyme is no force than a song from a Lori,
Free verse may be fine for more than just a laugh
But the story is lost in an ocean.
A sea of chopped stanzas,
Direction with no form.
But the ship might still sail,
Any port in a storm.