Crystal eyed warrior, jaded heart *****,
the toad and all his brothers die,
they bequeath a rancid stench.
The wilderness is pretty
lots of animals and such,
things that are carnivorous
things with talons sharp to touch.
Poison all to prevalent,
find it deep within the filament
so it's really not surprising how
some really can't catch the sentiment.

Crystal skinned warrior, jaded soul *****,
they cleaned and buried fallen arms
who's souls shall warm the bench.
Existence is a cry from good,
it really is, this **** is wack.
Animals in human skin,
with rainbow brains
and souls of black.

Crystal Blade Warrior
and the
Jaded Crown Prince,
juxtapose scenarios
until your
lines
begin
to bleed.
As scabs and scuffs,
we seeds and tuff,
chase dreams of gold
and platinum touch.
Humans are a joyous bunch
a ***** diamond, in the rough.

She entered the house of Joy
Fixed herself with broken toy

Went to find herself
Lying on a dusty shelf

Her other soul was beating
This claimed that two souls were now together
Found their partner
Relieved, her heart light as a feather

Her reflected soul looked sinned
***** and alone

It was shaped like a white doll
Wearing a dark blue suit
Twitching, responding, to a call

One thing she did not get,
was that it was wearing a pale, gray mask

Three shapes. Dot, dot, line
Perhaps forming a disturbing look of smile
Grinning happily

"What lies beneath the layer of lie?" she asks
Reaches her hand to uncover
The mask and the secret hidden

Tap. The mask falls with a sudden twitch
Revealing the wound and agony it had been hiding for centuries, waiting for it to be revealed.
But only for itself.

Tears dribble from the blank of it's eye
And crimson gore floods from the ragged mouth scattered with honey

It positions it's arm leaning toward her
Clamps over her mouth and whispers:
"Shhhhh-" with a painful grin. A real one.

Rumors and tales clinging and repeating
Of the soul who was trapped in good and honey







But inside, who was actually a **beast.

Blind men don't even know
the blessing that they own.
I cannot describe the agony
that enters my brain
through my wandering eyes.
Tormented by the permutations
that assail me,
from a million different angles.
Perfect darkness
is the only thing that soothes me.
But, even in the depths of night
I cannot blind the eyes
in the chasm of my mind.
The neverending eight millimeter reel
of things I'll never touch
skin I'll never feel.
Why must I have eyes?
***** out the stars,
so maybe I can finally hide
from everything I cannot have.

When  you  go  down  there.
The  settings  so  grand.
And  you  might  see  my  friend  there.
Playing  in  his  band.

The  sun  minting  coins
on  the  surface  is  grand.
Casting  shadows
across  on  the  land.

The  setting  so  grand  there.
And  fills  you  with  hope.
In  this  mad  world.
It  helps  you  to  cope.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK. 2017.

It,s  a  lovely  crisp  early  spring  morning.
After  a  sharp  frost.
Clear  blue  sky  has  far
as  the  eye  can  see.
Very  quiet, no  wind  at  all.
The  snow  capped  mountains
stand  proudly  on  the  horizon.
A  few  holiday  makers  arriving.
For  a  brand  new  season.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.