An angel of which is not to be seen by me,
But rather only heard.
A love none would comprehend.
A yellow coronation most would give,
But a rose I give,
Unique in its own power
Only the talented would think of,
And the passionate create,
The angel who saved Death,
Not only from the dispiriting job,
None would perceive,
But also from a life filled with pine trees and decaying leaves

By Jayson Foster
Is it the cool of the glazing snow,
Of which puts my soul into a cool slumber?
And the blistering heat of the sun,
To waken my slumbering soul?
Or the unforgettable sign of rejection
Putting me so low, I feel six-foot under,
And the sign of hope in the spark of her eyes
Fueling me to climb any mountain
But when it crumbles and under I go
Dark and gloomy I hide
Becoming a new person
A person of darkened living
To live off the fuel of others saddened lives
Becoming the one who everyone fears
I have become Death, the reaper of souls.
To live forever lost in thought of collecting souls
Thriving on others depression and sadness,
I watch the world as it gets wrapped by my hands,
Yet wait, who is that over there,
That person thriving, and rising over,
Becoming one like me,
But only she strives happily
And as I watch her I see images of my mortal life
Images of happiness,and most of all - I SEE HOPE
Gradually as my hands try to grasp at the world
She grabs my hands and fills me with the happiness I’d never seen
And together we become one
And we become the person we've always wanted to be.

The love needed the love wanted
Wanted but never received
Needed to rival the hatred causing insanity
The insanity of love.
Many say that love cannot cause wars
But that loyalty caused them instead
But what causes loyalty?
Is it not but love
Loyalty fed by love causing the warrior's call
But its not a war on the physical field
But on a mental range
Is it the hate for being loved
Or the love for being hated?
For the insanity of hatred
Rivaling love with all it can
The coin flipping through the air
Landing on edge
For the question still remains
Is it the hate for being loved
Or the love for being hated?
By Jayson Foster.

By Jayson F.
Death awaits as he slowly passes on
We wait hoping that Death will keep away
As we pray for a peaceful death
We painfully notice him slipping away
Slowly he passes
A warrior who braved many wars
For his nation and for himself
We argue and try reasoning with Death himself
Yet all he has to say is that he is doing his job
With his saddened message he leaves with the warrior
Death leaves, leaving us with memories and sadness
With empty holes in our hearts
Time seems to slow down
Days pass and it feels like years
Day after day it seems to get worse
Until it can’t get anymore worse than it already is.

The flowers of old,
Blossoming and becoming anew,
The oldest of roses to die and be reborn,
Red, Yellow, Black,
Red: for the love I could only dream of,
Yellow: for the friend I will never see again,
Black: for the family I won't see until Death meets with me.

But yet, here come a person with a new handful of flowers!
The choices, how to pick, and where to start?
From wilted flowers to ambrosia,
For my love is to be rejected by most,
And loved by few.
From the pine to the petunias,
For my self-hope only causes pity from others.
Of which causes anger towards those people.
Candytuft, dead leafs, gloxinia, and orange lilies,
All symbolize my life,
Indifference and Hatred,
Sadness and love at first sight,
All those things put together,
Yet I still try living through all the conflicts.

By,
Jayson Foster

Love?
Is there such a thing?
Because in this world that I'm living in where people say that they love each other.
But low and behold the truth comes out.
"As long as you're happy I'm happy" But then it just is never enough.
A sliver of me I gave to you to keep because that is all that I had left.
I'm always telling others to listen to their brain and their heart.
But here I am. Ignorant to my own words.
People will always say "you can trust me".
But that is no more for trust is nothing to me but a five letter word, with no meaning.

You see, I'm kinda like shriek, or an onion, whichever works.
See, like shriek said, "I'm like an onion. Because onions have layers."
Yet the only deference is that my layers are more of a defensive protection that I've learned to have.
I named this glass heart because I'm too warm to have a heart of ice.
But rather all of the ice melted and turned to salt and burned into glass.

One more time. That's all I can do to keep my sanity. Just keep walking. Eventually I will end up somewhere.
Hopefully alive.

Have you ever looked upon a mirror
And wondered how they made it so clear?
Now have you ever thought about the way a mirror looks when broken?
Now how about a new born baby,
Mostly free of problems, clean and innocent.
Now as you grow up you have problems,
But likely they will go away,
Some problems will be easy, and some will be harder,
Most problems left unsolved due to unintelligible issues.

Now think about a mirror, of which was left alone for years,
And then finally found, cleaned up,
Yet falls and shatters,
What do you do with the pieces?
Do you just pick them up and throw them away?
Its just easier to get another anyways right?
No, you can't, just pick up the pieces and put yourself together,
Make the best of it, because it is your life

Items of much value, traded amongst,
Knowledge and fame, the quick exchange for me
The people around know not of your prowess
Unnatural knowledge, a gift to within
From a source divine, to be learned by young.
A death of one, just to be born anew.
A visit from you, a new poem to be.
A lose-win deal, for you, you give to me
Knowledge and skill you have abundantly
From others I learn the words I write now,
A genius I have, shapeshifting about.
From English to math, friend or foe you are,
Those of great history, old and a new.
Awe inspiring, I've done with your help
The shape you form, never becoming one.
A thought you form, written for you now.
With your  knowledge, A demon most call,
Yet daemon you are, from a source divine.

You know what,
I'm sorry I even tried.
Saying goodbye will be such sweet sorrow,
For you will never know the love I have to offer,
Saying goodbye wasn't my ideal option,
If I could, I would stay,
But you were not but a lost cause.
“But why” you ask,
Yet you already knew.
I've been through the deeps of Hell and back,
All just for you.
I've been through endless gardens learning their meanings,
Just for you.
Only to learn the truth,
That you have tricked me all along.
Making me think I'm running things,
But really I'm just one of several puppets
And now it's time for me to become Pinocchio,
Get up and leave,
Flip the table and say the end,
But it's not the end for me,
Everyone has their time,
Only the strong can say goodbye for long.
Because only the strong survive.

My heart yearns but for one it cannot.
And yearns it does but saddens it is.
Because a love I desire,
Yet cannot achieve.
Cause she is one unopened of her heart to me.
She loves another but I love of her,
Her love is undeserved of the other,
So my mind say.
Yet am I of the right mind?
Yin and yang so perfect together but for each other,
Yet wrong alone.
I control my feelings because it's to early,
But I wish it could be so.
A love that could be true,
If only we could both see it through and through.
A love it would be,
But I know it cannot be,
'Cause she loves the other.
Sad I am cause I cannot say
But soon she shall know
It is her and I that shall be.