I find myself in the days which have thus evanesced,
How oft, well beneath the flux of the fiery beating orb,
With childlike leaps sprung by scurrying feet, I soar
To a paradoxical paradise long since to dust coalesced.
                                          
           ­                                YET

The serpent that burdens with sleight ~ of  ~ hand trickery,
Banished from Eden, tho barred not from creation, as Sin
Forged a home by me, but not within, naught within!
He  slithers amongst thee, may God shield & deliver me!


.                                           HE,

My God, is to whom I turn to in dreadful moments
Like these: times that seem lost in the miasma of Hell;
And Life has dealt another wild card to me, I fell
For the bluff and chose poorly before my atonements.



                                          WALKS


Seem to help, when I feel quite down in the mouth,
For I have fallen from Grace-or so I have felt- at
Times when Sin in me seemed to rule my past,
And prayers seemed naught to help in my bouts.


                                        WITH


Me, I once carried my burdens more than my bible
Because my faith faltered from time to time, living
For the moment seemed more convenient, giving
Naught a thought but in hindsight to soul survival.


                                         ME,


I make mistakes which does not make me fake,
Perfection is not what He expects in this, The
Grand Test, which does not make me bad or godly
But rather on a quest to beat this mess I did make.

She's a tree. The seasons are her emotions.
She once thought she was beautiful. When she felt warmth throughout her roots.
She slowly lost the warmth one by one.
After that the skies were gray and she was cold.
So sad and dull.
And never thought she would feel warmth throughout her roots again.
I told her everyday that seasons come and go, this isn't the end.
She thought look at me I'm not glowing I'm dull and not full of life.
I reminded her that even the happiest people find beauty in no leaves.

You see, forgetting you
is not a one time thing
it's a constant daily battle
stop thinking about him
remember the times
he stood you up
remember the times
he broke your heart
remember the things
he said in his anger
remember the way
he left you all alone
remember how
he gave no explanation
oh but remember
the roses he brought you
remember the late night conversations
remember the first time
he told you he loved you
remember the secrets
he confided in you
no, stop
stop
remember what's good for you
remember he's not good for you
remember what you deserve
forget him every day
every morning when you wake up
and your brain wants to bring him up
remember the nights you spent
crying on your bed
remember your best friend
cursing his name
remember your mother
cursing herself for not stopping you
remember your brother
cursing himself for not protecting you
remember the days at the hospital
the pills, the drops, the shots
remember what is best for you
he is not best for you
remember that
and forget him
every year
every month
every week
every day
every second
if that's what it takes