True love never dies
It keeps fossils breathing
Hid in this closset heart
Its ghosts the memories done
Distant this bygones be
By date and not feeling
Forever and gone
This thoughts still breathing
Though this heart lame
On crutches doth it still stand
Wounds still bleeding,
Scars become a tattoed memorial
To reminisce
And forever miss.

The bright site,
The morning star,
Its Light.
Sun seeing moments,
Am glad today,
Of marks yester made,
Aye, wounds tattooed,
As my every part being,
With every blood flow,
I am glad, of death,
For now,
It hasnt tasted me.
Of worries vast,
And troubles be.
Am glad I have a site,
Life is all I embrace...
Be glad wrongs,
Failures and hurts,
Made you be.

You were a poem embedded in my heart,
During those first days of spring,
It was still midnight,
When the words came unto me,
Desiring stay,
In scripts and Hearts.

I fell in love with how you became,
You, so beautifully expressed,
Were, but a consummate perfection,
How odd it is that Poets,
Easily fall,
Out of Love with their scripts.
I tell you: with scintilla, I've stayed long nights,
Jotting words, but they end up Foul.

And again she told me,
"It hurts",
She continued excuting,
Her tears,
Falling,
Mom told me again,
"Smile, It won't hurt",
That wouldnt change,
The fact that I am Fatherless,
My mom is a strong women,
She raised me to a man my father was.
My mom is what any mother,
Any parent should be...

Anew to breath,
Fresh to life,
A little daughter to mom,
The youngest in the family.

A soul Ive yet not met,
Or soon to meet.
Her name brings me Joy,
I am dearly Thankful for her presence.

It's not of how be the door,
But be of moments made by those sleepeth in depth,
One is said to have failed to sleep,
Christ, The Messiah.
Death now did mourn,
And mourning became first away from man,

To us, It comes so slender,
Sweeping breath out of bodies,
Souls lay hanging helpless of deed,
What's left of them is being Ghosts,
Be it to Earth remaining,
Or to Heaven ascending.

Words untold, Deeds shall speak,
The art of thine Legacy shall say for thee,
You are the littlest master of your past,
But be thee the significant creator of thy morrow.
Live before your light dies out,
Or yet die before your light burns you.