Light beamed off his visage
platinum corn-silk tresses
Glowing skin sends message
Souls Lamp Blesses
Inner reaches of my heart
Adoring seas part
Terror in Love so pure
Faith manifests cure

White and Pure like Snow
Silent and seductive like the soft summer breeze
Singing songs from the old days - when the world was young
An old soul with a young heart
Fresh and beautiful like the Sea
Eyes green and mysterious akin to the ancient land of Ire

Ah yes ~ the fire which no one sees ~ that we wear on our sleeves ~ excrete in our tears ~ a self destruction so sweet ~ flesh and spirit intertwined ~ unraveling the mind.

I can't tell how I feel
The rats are inside her again
I am a boiling kettle whistling
The blood is hot in her veins

I try to keep it in perspective
Her own fear devours her
I over achieve to balance the scales
They have nothing to be jealous of

force field
enfolded
each opening filled
energy
titanic excellence
blurred all vision
decision
abrupt tidal change
intimacy deranged
ring of truth
possessed
memory
nostalgia
nausea

Sad
I will say
I respected his work ethic
he was an alcoholic

Pretty Pictures
Those pretty pictures are the compilation of our days
Making a nice painting in my memory
Nostalgia always putting aside the shadows
Celebrating adrenaline and laughter

And so it goes
the recollection
making the rest make sense
to those who were there

I can rest easy in that
A pretty memory skewing
In a while even I will believe it