Some morning I awake
To find myself tittering on the precipice.
Hair-thin strands of faith
Keep me dangling.
In times of strength
I can almost weave them
Into durability;
But I find then snapping
Like a guitar string
I wonder between sanity and psychosis
And though I fear the abyss
This uncertainty
Finds me longing to cut the strings.
How much longer can I endure?
This mind that I remember to be strong
Somehow isn't
And knowing that
Almost frightens me more
Than the dark uncertainty.
When
Did death began to look
Like salvation?

Transcending into the euphoric dream
I find myself hesitating,
Somehow knowing
This can't be real

And, given the choice

Of ascending into the everyday truth
Of injustice, hatred, death,
And my sinkful of ***** dishes;
I find myself transcending into the euphoric dream.

After reading a few of your comments
I felt bad,
Like I didn't measure up somehow.
I started wondering
What you didn't like;
Like I needed your approval.

But it got me Thinking;
And poetry, after all
Is an expression of one's self,
And it doesn't matter
If -
My poetry reached out
and touched your heart
or bit you on the ****;
You read,
You responded
Point is - it made you think
And for moment,
I forgot that was what it was suppose to do.
Pardon the self indulgent pity!!
Thanks for reading and responding

Every legend begins with a truth
I've often heard it said
And it makes me start to wonder
About all the things I've  read.
Did Merlin really exist?
Does magic live out there
And if it does
I wonder where.
Atlantians may have acclimated
In the ocean depths where they abide.
They've learned to live and breathe
In the waters where they reside.
Maybe there's a whole new civilization
Down on the ocean floor
Where Neptune ad all the mermaids live,
Those fantasies we adore.
Every eye-drawing man I see
I'm beginning to speculate
Could it his werewolf blood
That doubles my heart rate?
That **** specimen of magnificent man
Does he change when day becomes night?
Does he thrive on the feels of adrenalin
Or how easy he can cause fright.
Does he run in a pack when the moon is full
Does he lure women to his bed
What determines our strength of will?
That tiny human thread.
In the dark of night across the crowd
His eyes lock onto me;
And though I long to pull away
He's all that I can see.
I see the tiny point of fangs
As he leads us to solitude
And I feel the rush of adrenalin
As sure as I feel the doom.
****** awake by the vivid dreams
The memories begin to flood,
But reality quickly opens my eyes
When I see the drops of blood.
There are predators out there in the streets
Not all the human kind,
And fear of what we don't understand
Encourages us to be blind.
Those things that terrify us
The predator in the night;
We are so foolish to assume
They're not there in the light.

Wondering lost
Through realms of time
Feels like I'm running
Or trying to hide.
Why can't I stop?
Stability's unsure,
Can't find my footing
Or get my foot in the door.
Where's my niche?
Where do I belong?
What's the right path?
What am I doing wrong?
Maybe I just need
To stop and breathe,
To know I belong
And try to believe.
Not everyone finds their place
Right away
Why it takes some longer
No one can say.
But those that take longer
I'm come to observe,
Have a better foundation
And a stronger nerve.
Maybe that'll be
The case for me,
When I find that place
I'm meant to be.

When you know that life and death are one
And nothing in the space divides;
You realize that you're all alone
There's no place you can run and hide.
Your faults and sins are all your own
You choose to feed which way they grow
Good or bad, what become
Inside, you hold the blame, you know.
You would not, could not dare believe
That life is all it seems to be;
Some higher purpose intertwined
Has built the hope and faith in me.
How could one see the purple haze
As sun retires to the night
Without knowing God is there
And He will aid me in this fight.