Oatmale is guy with good taste. though some would call him mushy, I think he is rather hardy.

Cowliflower plays moosic, though some think she is a gas, I think she's milking it.

God your far greater than ever I knew, than when first I asked for forgiveness from you.

Emblazoned and emboldened, ignited and aghast, that never I knew your love was so vast.

My new hope, my cry!, my plea!, is salvation be shown to all who I see.
Your love your grace your wisdom your power, will never again I ever dishonor.

For salvation is the greatest gift that I see, than ever there was a gift given to me.
My load is now light, my burdens are gone, now taken away by my savior your son.

I wake up every morning. I open the a small wooden box containing the precious substance needed for the ritual.  Carefully I measure out the sacred plant into it's proper vessel. I pour clear and filtered water into the basin. I wait patiently for the water to steep through the plant forming a wicked and dark fluid. I poor it into a earthen glass. I sip it, I love the taste of the bitter substance as it washes over my tongue; it's smell enveloping my mind and filling my head with a buzz.
I always make sure to prepare it dark as the void and black as the night.
Over the course of an hour I slowly sip the dark liquid until at last it is finished. I can feel it's dark power flowing through me and giving me strength.
. . .Oh how I love my morning coffee.

Your glistening skin,
the soft of your kiss,
the eye's of a goddess who's smile I do miss.


Your masterful skill,
the strength of your arm,
the path you chose to keep people from harm.

Wake me my dear, come safely home,
wake me my dear from being alone.

Wherever you go . . .
Wherever you are . .
Know my dear lady; that my love is not far. . .

When bullets are flying, my prayers do too.
When bombs are falling, I'm praying for you.
When the suns heat seems too hard to bare;
know this my love I wish I was their.

Though I am safe, and though I am home,
I'm lost and afraid, and so very alone.
I pray for you daily, I pray for you nightly,
And when dreams come it's of holding you tightly.

Come home safely for my sake.
Wake me from this dream of being awake.

love is just two people who have learned to accept each others faults. True love is when those two people realise the other has done the same

The deepest cave,. the most explored and yet most unknown place man has never been and yet owns a little part of.
A place that can be stolen, and yet often it is given to the thief by the owner.
Their are riches here, and garbage, and scars, and yes even evil but some good as well.
Who can know it's depths?
who can plunder it's riches?
Many have sought an answer, many have looked hard and asked many a question and yet for all it's effort; their own hearts failed them.
How can someone know such a cave if it changes course from day to day? And yet it is often harder to change it.
What contradictions it is, what conundrums, what beauty and terror and fire and passion and ice and wind and rain and fury!

What am I?
I am all these;
I am the still of the night, the bright of the day,
the fear of the fight, the fight of the fray.
I am the center of the mind,
I am one of a kind.

The silent night speaks to my soul,
as I hear the crickets and the thunder roll,
I look off to the eastern sky,
the rain will come soon like tears from from my eyes,
I feel the burden of the clouds to come,
The past is a muse for why I'm so glum,
the wind picks up as the moon becomes covered,
my soul cries out for my dear dieing mother.

Happiness is yours, It can not be given unless you want to share it, it can not be received unless you let it into your life.
But remember this above all else, happiness can still be taken from you. . .
So then let your Joy be in the lord . . .
for no one can take The lord from you nor you from the Lord.