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For He who's hands are Gods
Drifts wearily
amungst the drugs of men
Crouching the trash heaps
Blending life with death
He does not hope nor linger
To he, time is the wind,
And is of no consequence
Its length,
or your breath
Perfection is not being the best of something, its about the true balance
Within all things.
Ghostly maiden in the lonely night
Concessions for my glancing

But I could not help but drink the light
Of one so misty fancy

May I ask your hand my whispy sight
So that we may go dancing

And laugh away all this foolish fright
This love so circumstancing
The moon and clouds looked like a ghostly dancer.
When you realize
They are not your entire world,
But its gravity.
What good is a world without gravity?
In the deepest hole.
On the highest mountain peak
My heart points to you
You know
I am pretty happy
But its not what you think.

Its a box.

Yeah,

Its a box i sit in.
Its the place I built
To hide from myself.
I got my girl.
I got my boys.
I got my friends,
And my games,
And my job.

So im good.

But,

You see.
There are times,
When I think about
How messed up people
Can be:

To each other.
To themselves.
To animals.
To Earth.
To what we can really be,
What we NEED to be.
Even to little kids..........

And this is the time,
Yeah,
When all i wanna do is
peak
Over the lid of that box
And then:

My eyes glisten
within the flames
of pure agression.

The blind kind.

And I watch
As i fall somehow,
within myself,
Like down the throat of a dragon.
Screaming in absolute rage.

You know,...

 the tunnel vision kind?
The seeing red and black kind?
The saves you in fist fights kind?
The no pain kind.

The "if you even hint
That you are thinking,
What I THINK you are thinking.
I will claw my finger nails away
And ******,
trying to scratch my way to it.
Through your idiotic skull.
So i could remove
What would be the first thought
You've had in years.
So that I could then
Deny its rightful place
As king to the bran muffin
Between your diamond earings
You use to make decisions.
Just so I could then devour it
Excrete it back out,
Set it afire with
The very rage of
HUMANKIND
That floats somewhere
Between my heart, lips and mind
Just so I could Then throw myself
Upon those very flames.

And all of that...?

So that what remains of me
Won't have the energy to waste
On the thought of you."
Kind of

RED

RAGE
I found a ghostly lantern
Atop the ashes of a friend
Whos case was dull and cloudy
With a teather at one end

Enclosed, a glow with knowledge
 Secured in secrets of the past
Whos light was quite disturbing
 In spite of how bright it cast

It shines on all around me
Even the things I fret to see
A voice tells me to drop it
Yet, what truths might come to me?
If I could scrape it off of you
I would.
You know...

The pain.

The frozen fire
Whos burn Is just Numbness.

The funny mirror
That makes the good small
And the bad A blurry mess

The empty fear Of the nothing
You're afraid You've become

But you are not lost
Because when you wrote
On the train
I found it flying in the air
And I gave its warmth
To a cold man

When you cried through pen strokes
I draped it across a young womans heart
So that she may love again

When you loved the edges of everything
And then wrote it red
in paper cut
Blood

I held it like a map

To help those who
Need to find you

Yes...

But mostly to help you
Find yourself
For those of us who write to live
Live to love
And love to write

May this curse befall
Us till grave stone stands
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