Henceforth i shall be known to all as doom.

The fire that cracks the brick.
The destiny of clay.
The concussions to a crack,
that where homes, but yesterday.

Mighty are all who hold at bay,
the songs that are tomorrow.
Mighty all who come this way,
for they find only sorrow.

Into the sea, off cliffs of peril.
They who destine too,
all of the not of knowing.

Those, the reckless few.

For I the horror that they meet,
with my opened arms.
Will disarm, the hope of then,
and relent to just resolve.

So on a knee to all i am
and find my name be time.

You ask for form, my face is such, while both my hands align.

Something beautiful
Something shame
Little death
A soul to rein

All the sadness
Loss and gain

The moments happy
The cuts off pain

Youth untangles
the fear we never
Knew could  be
Of all of ever
And wrenchind
shock
And oh severe
Leaves us  slivers
Of our selves

That makes the tragedy
Whole

To make us Bind our cuts

All the Worthy
While


To fight
mortality

The veins in your arms explode with the burn of a seizures grip
And the grimace on your face
Is all the grace of pain
The convulsions that proceed a stain to make a rug be stuck.

You feel the shake and quiver.

Convulse while you deliver.

All the tiny deaths.

It was of the sand,
That found for me to stake upon this gamble of a purpose.
To onward journey, stout of heart, within it lines to draw and part
and dedicate my time to all that live and then depart.

And subjugate the sin of wait.
Dare i chance alignment.
To spite the constant vein of me.
That of constant bye.

For it was within the sands.
That truth illuminated
Divining is of destruct and of grand endeavor.
Those were lessons I to learn.
Yet warnings seen, but not to heed.

So to venture bold, embark.

Here I found myself about, a place that i not know.
Lacking proper courtesy that guides the proper tongue.
At a time of caving doubt in youth while throwing caution.
Such foolishness and acts so grave with naivete.

So of this, my letting go and future now to grasp.
Then of me to newer name and shed of me my past.

That led me to a village, shambled as it small.
Oh so sharp in all contrast,
To all i'd ever known.

And then to her so small of frame
with trouble trembling.

Did I find, i've much of want and more to givings be.

The hope I find within her eyes.
Those burning eyes aglow.
Yet shaking did i look to see, the grief she held alone.

For she with nails so black and pained
with eyes of sapphires ancient flame.
Screamed, "anne nerde"?

To this I said within my lip.
My English voice that caused such shock.
"hello", and then ,"who, you"?

And puzzled as i've not the faintest
slight that cause her hate
and run away and then dismiss
or understanding me.

That left me to the mighty awe, and my stupidity.

"Am i the image of the anger, she must see everyday,
A reminder there's tomorrow, or of horrors yesterday"?

Faintly nothing can be had, so i had chanced hello.
This is me and who are you.
And her away to go.
So i was lost to all the why,
and all who heard it so.

Then to suspect, short of counsel and left of reason why.
I shatter peace with solace small and and watch you drain your eye.

So to all that spun around
with jaws so slack with shock.
Made of this a curse and huddle?
Of what, they they took of stock?

They must be of the panic.
They must be many dead
And this is now my crucible
and now i know there dread?

" How dare i cause such great alarm? in such fleeting passing
" i said hello, only hello
and then, but"who are you"?.


All but mine
All faces white blood.

And then the moment shock!

For then i heard, "olu"!!!

"For I said, hello and who ," but she heard only death.

And forgiveness in this place
Was shown not least the trace.

Awaken this, the anger, rage  the mighty great temult.

For announced by all around  
"You utter with most care.

This place if of the teetering
and none dare hear dispair."

So please a caution with your greeting.
For broken hearts here tear

And the tokens of your kindness,
Can be swallowed up in here
Its brought to doom, this little girl by violence and it's snare
Was brought to this, by fault of tounge
bignine and shambled care.

Then better us
To purse a lip
And hope the slight be small,
The reaping can be had
But never excise fault
It is of divinty
So pray we judgment halt.
This is of the manner known
Yet are still unseen

For all the slights be large or small
None are are fully owned


And All the workings good of heart
Must be done 
and done discreet.

Did you hear the boom?
Then quite, calm, to tragedy.
The comings of the gloom.

I might mistake the sound of it,
the concussions are so low,
they are little, peice by peice
until the hammer drops.

Mighty us to revil in and then to shelter hide.

Is this, but of the meddling of
what we have to show.
All the workings of a peace
with no regard to then.

Yet, out so loudly do we go.
When silent did we make our voice.

The railing we suspend.


It was a bomb, that brought to heel.
The world we wish to never know
A mushroom that lights the sky.
Away, away we go.

So You and I have heard the sound,
.
A telling noise that is but brief.
The shock so imminent.

The world that's at its precipice.
And we do look away.

So decision.
Life revision or to crumbling.
That might then stop the lazy tears
and postponing of these things.

That it is always of the now,
And of our lives to cherish.
Without the foresight of the past
Is future never known.

Yet, you and I can change the land,
and keep the world we have.
Or might to burn within the sun's
Reactive gifted glow.

I dare you drive your car.

I'll walk between the crosswalk lines and bare the weight of all the lights and corners of the street.

The road is ground, ash and dust and still the dead can beat, there heavy hearts on souls of steel and never see what barrels down, but look to left and right.

So can you see the signs stamped
go? and stop, and find they mop you up.

From the road, they pack you up and weigh the load, with measure of your weight, with violence free.

So I doubt you ever will, allow your blood to spill.

But never will you know the cold.
Fruition at it's pace.


That in each turn see a door
without a mark,
to warn you halt.

Behind the the truth is stark.

It might be, that you have heart
and fear not cowards dread.

If of trial or not of trial, no courage and be dead.

So inturn be ground to black
the burnt and paved and lost.
Those with station ever grave,
and cross your heart intact.

For all is only constant,
Yet all the roads repeat.

With, of this the nothing.
Though we have the shapes.


Squares for stores,
Circles round,
That of destined loss.

Hope suspended,
reprimand, light house roundabouts.

That heavy air unbreathable,
And acts on ground conceivable,
Until the light you bend.


But yet we strive to different shines.
Those of different lamps.
Cramps of youth
Yearning now to smile at us, back .

For it was us in tiny rooms
destined to the sky.


The guile lost, with hope to find your foolishness intact.

If not of them and only you
Trails for them you make.

A road of trials, tribulations , so don't retract one act.

For such is shame.
The needling.
To never chance, the why.

That the hope might
Be there still
For daily do we lie.

That it is to the woods,
And oceans reasonings.


This our dusk with glimmer, gleam.
Our making's of a dream.