My life wasted away in breaths,
I am dying, and decomposing
Underneath this flesh.
Already dead, but not quite yet
Time drags along,
At the pace of Death;
Whose bony feet sink into sands.
Oh, how they trudge- how they drag
Carving lines into this wasteland
From which, sprout hands
That fiercely pull and grab;
Ripping skin, picking scabs.
While I'm trying to plant
Seeds sewn into life's mantle
Where these flowers can grow
For my soul-
Rid me of these weeds
That drain my bones of marrow,
That enter deep and leave me hollow.
These roots my body follows,
Into the void where everything is swallowed;
The hungry, gaping throat
That we boast as fate or ghost
A god to claim the throne,
Death awaits; head adorned
In gold.
One true faith, our only lord.
Unafraid,
Knuckles bruise against his door
He welcomes me, and it's oh so warm.

-SLuR

She moves, sways, dances to the music.
It starts in her heart, hypnotizing.
In a trance, it moves to her body.
Soft, fluid motions, closes her eyes.
Feeling it down to her soul, consumed.

Curious eyes fall on her moving figure.
Delicacy, grace, beauty enthralls attention.
Others follow suit, seizing her smooth rhythm,
feeling the music in their hearts, revealing
with movement, while the melody touches souls.

She loses herself in the sound of sweet music;
they lose themselves in the scene of her dance,
pure and serene, gentle and captivating all.

I rest as a totem pole. Hand carved from a sliver of cedar, i am a collection of my elders whose reflection is my mere existence. i plant before you the 7 deadly beasts within me; mad as hell, playful as the devil.

this is me, i will not be meek, or mute, can you handle the knout?