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Am I in Love?

At night, laying sleepless,
I bemoan the treacheries of life
with my love
and appreciation....
And though,
in my dark,
and cavernous foundations;
Roar the pillars of stone,
and shake them.

by curiosity,
and interest,
I stare intently at you,
and though I cannot see,
You are there.
by my creativity,
and invisible,
by my negativity.
And through the secret game
that to many, has forbidden name
we speak.

and pride,
my greatest hatreds,
now run through me,
though the game of
Predator, and Prey.
I am the prey,
of myself,
in the black vapors
of my confusion,
you two rought me
with confusion
and woe,
My thoughts now strand
off into many divisions,
all joining together,
to reveal my fear,
of disappointing you.

The thing we connect through bings,
and so we remain in contact, it seems.
But ever, we thought beautiful
I am marred, and proved untruthful.
You do not deserve me,
but somehow
in this void-feeling heart of mine,
I sense you care.
I care.

Am i in love?

My Mind craves you,
and I put much emphasis on that,
for that, might,
just might,
be my undoing.
Should I look to the East,
to find you, riding, in
shining, and metallic armor,
And see only dust clouds
roam aimlessly from North to South.
But I hear banners, in the West,
all risen high,
as high hopes,
and high spirits,
to guide them.
This, is what I've waited for,
for years,
as do we all.
But my misinterpretations,
now lead the banners,
with silver swords,
bearing the name of hate.
with this,
I deserve only
to lay my head down,
lamely, for you to hew it
from me, and call it,

This, I forsee,
this unsensible
and crazed
that passes through me,
and guides me
to all darker paths of light.
So that I may be dimmed,
and in a cycle refrained,
I should, as a doomsayer,
say my doom,
and I, as a fool,
should subconciously make that true.

This is what I see.
I fear, for you,
and fear,
for me.

I burden all, though a child
and my will is heavy, upon you,
and wild, is my desires
and should you penetrate my curtains,
you should see,
the cold bitterness, of my truth.

But all the while,
mind and soul crave you,
and body revives,
but surely.
I sense love,
and my stomach churns,
knowing I shall hang my head
in Guilt.

Am I In Love?
Hear the banners, blaring,
In a Castle, sun-bathed white.
Wrapped in the golden sunsets
of both East,
and West.

Come closer, into this Castle's realm
see crops blazing with activity,
what might be prosperity,
or laughing children
and screams of joy, and laughter.

Talk to a farmer girl, of this Castle,
Listen to her tale:
I was wrought from Issac and Portia,
a Nobleman, and a Common-folk.
Together, they brought me,  16 years ago.
From the dusty deserts, that bloom green plants,
I sit lonely on a bench,
and by chance, I had a glance,
of a poor person, but, not a common-*****.
A man he is, and he stands tall,
with black slick hair,
and muscles all.
I looked at him,
and he looked at me,
or so it seems.
The next day,
in the market streets
of Camelot.
We met,
face, to face.
Though it were a dream.
And seemed fair around us,
though that was not what it would seem.
We spoke, in the corridor,
to the church,
and we learned of each others lore
and kept close each others worth.
The Next day, by midnight,
as I slept in my bed,
He was there.
He knocked on my window,
and I invited him in,
with suspicion,
and lusting,
for my anticipations.
And he spoke to me
"I will return, Christine, dearest,
but I must embark, upon a quest,
to the neighboring town of Cornwallis,
to discuss neighboring policies,
and alliances.
By 3 days shall I return,
and should I not,
then my death will you learn
has come.
And so he came,
and so he went,
William his name
who's life not spent
walked gallantly mile after mile
to reclaim his fiance
and raise their child.

upon the walls
of Camelot,
their lies what they
might call a mote,
but it has been torn,
and it might be plagued,
explaining the lack of

Knocking on the Gates,
of Camelot,
leads to a few strange noises,
one of them, being,
no noises,
as you hear
distant voices,
as if they were sleeping,
and you look up,
"The moon, of course!"
And so you climb the wall,
with a vine you found in the forests nearby.
And you stumble and mingle
with the vine wrapped
around your ankle.

Alas, your free,
You look up for the first time
within the boundaries of the city,
and find,
inscribed houses,
and minor commotions,
and by mere chance,
the sun arrives
though late, he seems,
and later he rises
the brilliance and the blare like a clock
starts the peasants up as flocks.
Love round the village clean and fair
and animals rolling in parks they share.
Where birds sit in pair-trees.
Where dogs chase cats for fun,
Where bees entertain the children free
Where parents admire the creation they've done.
And as you walk these streets
in wonder, and satisfaction,
You find that street
is layered in sparkles
and clouds of snow-white dust
that enhance the atmosphere
of this,
so to speak.
Their, in the middle,
bewitches thine eye,
with all fantasies of this Earth,
and all beauties that have worth.
For in the center, lies a fountain,
which speaks 'Heaven' to your heart,
its marble is smooth as doves,
the presence of the fountain,
creates, or so you believe, the dark
mood around,
like a ominous breeze,
that is being blown away,
infinitely stretched,
like a monkey-chain of rubber bands,
the features of this fountain,
excite your mind with wonder,
enough wonder,
that makes your life feel whole,
though man has at least one worth,
should the world fail
and all prove evil,
then at least, they praise this devil.
The shape is but a breath-taker from
what could qualify, as a statue
for to lie in God's Plaza, or something
similar. The water spraying from the Queen,
Gaia, with a lively green vine,
my apologies,
that is pure and uncut emerald
that wraps around her hair,
which is so defined,
that you could give Gaia a new definition,
And from Gaia's hands, holding a vial,
comes out water, seeming longer,
and more endless then the nile.
And should you lean upon this,
architecture, of majesty,
unbearably beautiful,
and unquestionably
you'd see,
the mirroring,
of Heaven, the Stars,
and all the cold void within this reflection,
that miraculously could ever dare
to try that deception, in say, 4 feet length,
that mimics the unending of space,
time and infinity.
you turning your head,
you see creatures,
though creatures they be,
they, if the fountain represented God,
then these creatures represent his Archangels.
As Swans float gently,
upon the water's tip,
and even Salmon, and other fishes below
are gray, silver, or diamond clear.
And the water their, remains,
despite the audiences
of romantic teens,
adorable, and innocent children, laughing and playing in this pool,
and adults sitting by it, enjoying  their mate's company.
Inscribed in Gaia's vial, reads
"The Fountain of Youth".

But these fond memories no longer supply me,
with the passion and love of this Earth,
I once fondly knew,
for all, even the fountain is pillaged,
and two lovers that loved each other were hewed.

But pride, forgotten,
and beauty marred,
live forever,
in glory
and love.
Life, you are truly amazing
As no spectacles, Crysta *****,
Physicists, Physics, or Theories
can ever live up to,
Or define...

Life, we see you in but broken glasses,
that might even be missing one piece,
but ever we try, and ever we die
but all the while in peace!

Life you are a melody
high strung in accord
to the skies above us
and down to shores and more..

Life you are anything
From a Rock, to a ****
to a Floor, or a door
a mouse to a house
Thrall, mall,
and many more..

Life, you are undefinable,
and can only be complemented,
with Grace, and Confusion,

For that is your way
to have us sway,
for every day
we in your arms lay...
When weariness has struck me,
I look upon the old,
I see them fail, day after day,
and Fade.....

Oblivion's sire, is it not your name?
For if oblivion is past all Light,
Then into darkness we will fade,
to see the dark void's night...

I walk in forests with weeping eyes,
and shadow holds in my fears...
That the light of Trees will diminish;
An Awing lovestruck finish...

And as I look upon the trees,
I see star and moon shine bright,
and I, wandering my slumber,
See them fail tonight...

For all things on Earth,
even Earth, Water, and Sky
cannot resist the looming power
to surely fade; And Die.....
Pardon me, but who are you?
To tell me what is wrong and true?
Have you looked upon God's face
and seen all of time through his grace?
I thought so, weakling man,
Lying fool, with a wasted span....

Excuse me! But who are you!
To tell me what there is to do?
Authority vain, were you born
As Jesus was? Did all mourn
upon your grave that followed you
through the End? And past it too?
I thought not, arrogant man,
wasted weary in graveled lands...

But then, Who's job is it to do what is to do
if what is to be done is done too?
Then who, may I ask, are you?
Then who, may I ask, are you?
Heart, roused with blood
you are lively as the sun,
but ever are you small,
and fiendishly are you undone..

You are majestic,
and as important as Night,
but you are destined
to fail amidst this fight..

This fight..
Between Dark and Light,
too cold for the moon,
and too warm for the sun,
you increasingly sway to opposite ends
and ever do you believe to have faith
but your faith is melted upon my will...

Darkness rouses thee,
and in curiosity innocent,
you crack open the closet
that hides the dark commandment
that shall ever bind you in despair
and shall twist you though you were as air..

Light rejuvenates you,
and through the longing days
of evil trodden forth
you complacently design yourself
a structure of immunity
to swell and flee fast
against this growing evil seed..

Together you two,
designed by Love and Hate,
have conspired,
to remove the 3rd; Innate..
For no man on Earth,
nor in Skies, or in Seas,
might chose the middle,
where lies no man to be..

You might protect us,
and you might save us,
but you fuel a pollution strong,
that ever writhes within us,
a dichotomy of song
that ever equivocates us
and ever decimates us..

The Heart is our enemy,
and yet is our savior,
but it is not ours,
nor our being
you decide our fate so idiosyncratically,
and perceptual; to be such a misnomer,
For the Heart is a will, not a being, no, not even a power,
and is tortured by our breathing..

The Heart is a riddle,
no man yet may dare defy,
for within this heart is a circle
of ritual and lie..

The Heart is life,
but at it's own free will,
and it alone decides our strife
that with pain for it we seek to fill,
So how, on Earth, Heaven, or Hell,
does it list us as its friend,
and how does it follow us to the End?
Man may never tell...
There once was a man named Newborn,
whom wandered curiosly across the Earth-torn
grasses, and the rocky roads,
and was henceforth known as the Caveman goes..

These petty caveman with their bronze
constructed wheels and without their brains
had been crushed by wheels without restrain
and learned by wrote and learned to change.

From wicked wheels of stone and mud
came Spartan swords and arrows above;
From wild shields and monstrous blood
bubbiling through these savage doves..

Soon aftarwards began slavery,
whence after the fall of democracy,
learn to make a shape, a Triangle,
in the hardest way a man could handle.

A wild amount of years later
began the mystic age; Far greater,
or therefore known as the Mideveal
whence Magic was; and Poetry primevil...

The skies had Darkened with the age
of the Renaissance, and gunpow'drish stage
had begun the ruins of mankind
when the fair and the bold had intertwined..

The raging fires of agriculture
were then consumed by rage and stupid folklore
of preposterous ideas spoken by man
that have led us to the industrial span..

Soon after this atrocity,
began a most hideous animosity,
for this is Truth, and truth to be,
So listen well, for chanting fell,
but lies not to Earth nor to Man or Sea;

Humanity! Ha! The road you go is vain!
The world you seek
and the powerful peak
will be mashed with Human's refrain!

Humanity! Fools! Interwoven dictators
that have futile power,
yet invoke us every hour
into their moderators..

This path of knowledge and Wisdom
is a lie, for their is no Kingdom
that man may make that is perfection
for we always face things like discretion,
and If man cannot learn to end these cycles wild
then surely our infinite powers will be set at 'Mild'.

Man; The wisest thing I have in my life yet to say
is that you forever will from side to side sway,
and if you cannot open to all
then surely you are destined to fall!
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