Your voice echoes in my mind,
     But it sounds like chimes in the wind,
My image of you is restraining,
     Yet my spirit soars overhead.
If you sit back and pretend all you hear is silence...
...but if you lean forward,
It comes rushing to your head,
A sea painted red...

A creature ruled by Venus, so elegant, so pure, stares at the moon, thirsting for more. As it smiles back at her, the light bends around her face just to caress her cheek, to let her know, there is something more, something far beyond, in the distance, waiting for her. For a creature so elegant and pure, cannot sit in darkness for long. The moon has something in store. A gift from the lord, something that has been there all along. A gift from her past now brought to her present. Has this happened before, I'm not sure. As the spirit in the sky returned the gift to the moon, it then smiled back on our creature from Venus. He handed her this gift, not quite concealed. But she still couldn't see. For too long she saw flowers wilt, lights flicker, wells dry up, and seasons change. The next night as she looked outside, the moon was gone. Oh how she cried. Oh how she hurt. She cursed the moon for all its worth. As tears dried and her heart slowed. She heard a knock at her door. As she twisted the cold metallic handle and took a leap of faith, with eyes wide open she felt the night's embrace. "There you are", she exclaimed. As they sat together under the dark sky, now with the light inside, they knew this was forever. And though some may say it was selfish to take the moon from the sky as others need the light to see. They realized, as long as they had each other, no one else would need the moon. So as it goes, there presence together sent ripples into a sea, a sea of people, planets, creatures, and trees. A force so strong, a power so great. They looked into each other's eyes and she finally said, "This is fate".

Matthew Dante Cosentino

What a fool to have loved, and love again.
To walk through puddles indoors,
Just to step outside onto hardwood floors.
With an ache in his step,
And a wonder like a child's,
Will he ever realize,
Somethings in life just aren't worth while.
With each moment collapsing,
Of and ***** so taxing,
One can only wonder,
is there something wrong...
...with him,
Or her,
With love or life?
Why do the best things make it hard to sleep at night?
Why does his greatest joy always carry such sorrow.
Rivers over flooded, no hope for tomorrow.
A future so elegantly constructed and nurtured in his mind,
Slowly deteriorates with every second of time.
Passing is the wind, the day, the night.
Faces swimming in a sea of numbers,
But destined to walk alone toward his grave.
Buried alive he screams for mercy,
And prays,
To a love he can't fully explain,
In hope for some clarity and guidance,
For matters one in the same.
But stationed on this plane of existence,
At this moment,
wandering in pain.
He musters up enough courage and drive
So as to reclaim,
That confidence that once was,
To carry him to his loves embrace.
Is he a fool?
Yes...
But he wouldn't have it any other way.