Throwing rocks into the winter river.
Ice as thin as a child's soul's skin
Carries not the weight
Of History's oldest weapon.

Like a paperless poem it shatters,
Floating away with the fleeing stream.
Water needs no windows.
Nothing is outside to its within.

A rolling hill
With suffocating oaks
Under the dire grey of sky
Pass along the dire straits
Of the Ded.

And the Ded do speak
Like silent auras wandering
In poetical forms,
From the Ded they embrace
The pain and sad skies.

Slowly they walk the desolations
And bring forth the balance
Of the darkness's and a
Black rose blooms.

Once alive the Ded searched
For hope;
But the self absorption
In the heavy skies
In the mind's prison
Hold a still terror,
The Ded walk among marble slabs
Of light.

I am the queen of what ifs
Sitting on a throne of could've beens

My fears are my loyal subjects
Escorting my dreams to the gallows

My ambitions are now prisoners
To my court of procrastination

I, the queen
Reign over all of this regret

Only half a soul resides
inside a human casket
Just 50% of ethereal being,
feeling,
self.
And many live unaware
of what they truly search for
They think that they are empty
because they have no money
They think that they are empty
because they have no hope
But truly they are empty
because they only have half a soul
And everyone, yes, everyone,
has someone to someday meet
And every soul, yes, every soul
had another half to greet
So keep your feet moving
no matter how weary the journey
Your soul mate is waiting for you
and emptiness will be but a memory.

An empty container
Doesn't always
Show the fullness
Inside. An empty
Container
Just means your in
For the biggest
Surprise of
Your life.