Is it all the way downhill from here?
Will there ever be a climb;
A challenge that would be fair?
A struggle worth my time.

Did I miss a path that diverged in the woods?
That could have made all the difference?
Or did they pull it over my eyes, the hood
That blinded my sight, steering clear of all the hindrance.

They herded me past those forks
The ride was convenient, all luxury it seemed.
.
.
.
(incomplete)

The beauty of the beast is
the beast within the beauty.
To this I was blind, until my eyes were open by rib-breaking-swords aiming straight
for my only weakness.

The mirror of your image is a broken glass.
Reflecting the scars you embedded in this heart.

Do I drown myself in a river of poison or do I close my eyes and hope that tommorow will shed sorrows and mend my heart.

I am wounded by questions, as to why I do not honour the beauty of love, but an eagle can not dance in the clouds without its feathers. Shackled by the chains of misery, I find that in love I can not go further.
I'm an iron bent by the hammer of pain. My path is abundant with emptiness, love is yet to lead me astray.

In the rain of my tears I see a rainbow coloured with hope of escaping my fears enlightening my heart as the path to love appears.

a warm dawning sun
rises slow on hazy horizons
with winds wildly
blowing
down endless
interconnected currents
we wake up
to birds singing
timeless songs of morning
and our forgotten past
leaves us hanging
like willows weeping
in the rain

L** ost out in the real world
up, down, left, right?
its all backwards
which way to go?

O ne way.
The other less traveled
or the well beaten path?
how to choose?

S igns? supposed to
follow the signs?
if i don't care,
how will i see them?

T ear down the walls,
break away.
become something else
ENTIRELY

When life as opening buds is sweet,
And golden hopes the fancy greet,
And Youth prepares his joys to meet,--
Alas! how hard it is to die!

When just is seized some valued prize,
And duties press, and tender ties
Forbid the soul from earth to rise,--
How awful then it is to die!

When, one by one, those ties are torn,
And friend from friend is snatched forlorn,
And man is left alone to mourn,--
Ah then, how easy 'tis to die!

When faith is firm, and conscience clear,
And words of peace the spirit cheer,
And visioned glories half appear,--
'Tis joy, 'tis triumph then to die.

When trembling limbs refuse their weight,
And films, slow gathering, dim the sight,
And clouds obscure the mental light,--
'Tis nature's precious boon to die.

clouds of words
from places diverse
come floating to the sky, soaking my heavy mind

they are unconnected and meaningless
stray birds wingless
kept in cage of isolation, no relation to find

when brought together
held close by a tether
they mix up to join, combine and bind

then in a pattern they flow
rise high, fall low
dancing with passion, in a rhythmic fashion aligned

a story they tell
in my thoughts that does dwell
feelings get expression, sincere confession, to soul they're affined

not seeking perfection
but creativity and introspection
my humble quill, tries to spill, colors of several  kind

my flawed verse is terse
in emotions it's immersed
it portrays a view, connects with you, as my heart unwinds

My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.