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Lain Ender Mar 2012
How ticks the ebony clock,
With its incessant back and forth?

There is no harmony in me,
The mirror tells me so itself.

Blank,
So blank,
The cold pale reflection of the nothing I embody.

I have found that its only when I smash the mirror that the real me appears.

Among the trickles of blood from my hand,
And the tens of glistening shards.

I see myself
Every me.

Not distortion,
The portion of me that can be seen.
I see every me that ever was reflecting on the floor.

Only by twisting and breaking the false self,
Can the real self be absolved.
So i wrote this late last night in a very twilighty near sleep. The muscle relaxer for the arm I hurt was kicking in. I originally wasn't going to post it but i like it. The only thing i changed from last night is capitalization's and punctuation's
Lain Ender Mar 2012
Tell me wistful wisteria,
Why do you shed those regal tears?
Is it for a fallen child,
A bud of love so dear?

Can you tell me violet crier,
Why flows your petaled pain?
Did you lose a lover?
Does it hurt to speak their name?

Or wisteria, darling tear stained one.
Is this glumness misconceived?
Does happiness reprieve just hold you,
and bring you to your wavering knees?
Its been a while. I've been busy with trying to get licensed in such in such and working a small collection of short stories which are almost ready to be edited.  If all goes well soon they will be available for cheap on Kindle.
Lain Ender Feb 2012
In the chair he played,
His muscles burned with his pain.
It was always constant,
The needless burning of his nerves.

Fingers curled he played,
There was enjoyment in the music.
It erased the pain and the sadness ,
The that the many scars of his nerves gave him.

Then he was gone

17 and gone in the last beat of the hearts
we cried happy birthday
But he wasn't the only one
What of the one teacher?

You helped him play through the pain,
While you yourself suffered,
How soon were you torn from us too?
Its all to soon.

You know their will be a final symphony,
they wont let you go without the notes.
draped on your shoulders like wings,
Angels of the band.

You both were pillars of strength,
And we all remember and sing and play.
For the good don't just die young,
They are set free of their suffering.

And we love you,
Let the symphony play.
I will cry for the man i barley knew,
For he helped the one I loved.
I'm sorry this is so slap dash and likely terrible. Its hard to write through tears. I know no one on here really knows me so i will explain my hurry and my tears. 2 years ago, on his 17 birthday, I watched the brother I helped care for so much die suddenly from Multiple sclerosis. I sang him happy birthday through tears as his heart came to a stop. He was a great kid and avid member of the band where despite his illness he played the biggest instrument they had ( the Marimba). The Instructor who taught the class was a pivotal influence and was infinitely patient with his shortcomings. He too had a chronic illness, Cancer. After my Brother died he did everything he could, the band played at the funeral, the took donations and had a special  marimba with his engraved on it and even fought to have an award that is given annually to winner of a band tournament held every year in the school district. Mr Jackson (the teacher) suddenly died today, barely over forty. I cry for him because my brother could not, because i know he was a great man. I apologize for this sudden spilling of my true self but in this circumstances i can not hide behind a pen name. I remember  www.facebook.com/groups/167503548802/10150543131228803/?notif_t=like

and

www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1598573011

I cry for the ones who fall too soon, the greatest of us. I would cry for you.
Lain Ender Feb 2012
Spring has dawned,
The air runs free,
Some hearts grow ripe,
Like fruit on trees.

Spring has bloomed,
The light runs fair.
For words we speak,
Flutter softly in the air.

Not all of us have the heart to love,
Not all of us are freed.
To some love is a blessing,
To others it is a bitter ****.
Happy Valentines Day?
Lain Ender Jan 2012
The sun has fallen and the stage is set,
Draped in thoughts and things that will never be.

How will we remember these nights,
These nights of disorder,
Nights of chaos,
Nights that never truly relinquish their hold?

Where stars scar the sky in their albino epitaph ,
And the candles lick the tepid darkness.
Petals on the floor become kicked and soar,
As the dancers waltz forever in time.

They, like the rest of us, know not why they are here,
Every 30 steps they stop and restart.
It is as if they are never there,
Just memories pressed against stage.

Memories that only wish to fade.
Lain Ender Jan 2012
Today I broke my favorite teacup,
So i buried it outside.
One day I hope,
Will grow a teacup tree,
And I will watch them come to life.
Lain Ender Jan 2012
Stumbling in my door,
Lurching from wall to wall,
Crashing against the frames etched like keys of black and white.

Inside my mind i can hear such impossible notes.
With each collision they ring,
Crashing dissonance of the day.

These bitter notes should never have met.

They shake me as I succumb on the floor,
Before the great ring of white,
The home for the things i can not contain.

The sound of my loss and my blood,
Overborne by the chaotic fugue of the colliding keys.
There is no peace in these painful nights.

As they sped I became empty and forever at rest.
yeah not very happy today
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