Life descends,
not in thunder storms
or lashing rains
of passion

but in gentle drizzle
of bliss and purity.

2:30am, felt the hollows hands of death again.
Fingers wrapped like a noose around my neck.
Woke up distress in sweat.
With tongue tied knots made of fear and frustrating attempts.
I called out to mother but
I felt 1,000 pounds of pressure standing upon my chest.
Muting me into speech impediments and sinking me into the depths of what seem to feel like hell for a couple minutes.
Body felt like dancing sharp needles in the air.
As someone's eerie finger
Sailed across the maps of my skin.
Causing frantic earthquakes through out what seemed like my living corpse.
I felt like discords, statics, and lost signal tv channels.

**** it ******* gone, eyes ******

.




The tired


Ole man     (he is  a good man )



But


He can't                ( no he can't )

Take it no more


)(



Why do we think there's a place to hide ?


)(

)(


He


( The ole man )


Is tired


No ! No ! No !


He can't take it no more


.

Just stay true to your roots.
Branches grow, deceiving you.
They burn,
They shed,
They fall,
But you grow.
Stronger each year.
Maneuvering obstacles.
Conquering what you believe in.
Yourself.