All will power, self-control and mental restraint I have exhausted,
For neither passion reside nor lust emerge in his humble feeble heart.
I have knelt on frail knees and with quaint hands his love I exalted
But within his soul, intimacy and romance he willingly depart.

Minutes to hours to 6 am poetry readings in remote coffee houses,
He has inspired the muses in the hellish chasms and caverns in my chest.
Desperate and loose interpretations of his intentional misleading’s he arouses
For in me he refutes debauchery with sarcasm wherein my tavern I will recess.

I am a kin folk made from a flamed dreams of love unbound by time and lust,
And whose very existence is to serve and be served without expectation.
In us a purity resides of reclaimed innocence from unadulterated trust
Where he confides in me his minds afflictions and turbulent tribulations.

But there is a blonde girl, petite personality, vivacious body and soul pure as light,
So in empty compliments and falsified flattery I forsaken myself to internal desires.
For she is an Angel engulfed in his wings of sentimentality and heroic might,
And I am but the Devils Advocate crucified in a criminal act,
Doing all that his love requires.

For I will walk through time loving him in every way,
And he will die loving her just the same.

There is a madness brewing like a sickness violently spewing lunatic crazed remarks into hollow minds. There are ideas stirring, bubbling and boiling; while stifled thoughts surface with no more than their existence as a warning of fore coming depression.
What a natural phenomenon, the emergence of insanity within a sane able bodied mind.
There is a foretelling of a sign forecasting an upcoming discension into the chasms that are my souls wretched sins reincarnated into the halls of Hell.
Ideas inspire though pride, gluttony, malice and envy give my breathe meaning through the inconsistencies of life.
They ignite within us a flame not readily contained by the constraints and shackles of love and time.
**** me now, and I shall forevermore hold peace in my heart and a quieted mind.

Never mind the obscure objectives and finite perspectives for I need but secure my collective conscious so that I may grasp a reality that remains lost in earth trodden shoes worn down by relentless, unforgiving journeys.
In your search for meaning, you have found them hiding from curious eyes waiting for those that matter. I ask that you appreciate the tears, the dirt stains and matted fabric for they have survived damnation in their trek to Hell and back.
You discovered and earthed them in their solidarity and quiet suffering, picked them up and polished what would could.
You returned them to me with a sparkle in your eyes, hoping for the best; that they will fit and continue to collect memories. That they might survive the journey to atonement and witness exaltation one final time.
Your smile widens, your nose wrinkles and cheeks flush red.
You feel within you a sense of consummation in that a good deed was done.
I say unto you “I’m sorry dear but they no longer fit nor am I able to journey. Age and neglect weigh heavy on their seams and my bones creak with my every step. ”, you laugh, creases forming at the corners of your deep brown eyes.
“Then tell me about your journeys”. I have never heard words so sweet in a voice so delicate and loving. You sit down eyes wide and virtuous ears perked and hands out stretched, “For I will walk your path in my own shoes and I will collect memories in my hands so that one day I may put them in my own heart and have them with me always. If ever you need them, then I will be with you”.

He is rapture incarnate and
manifested exuberance in human flesh.
He sings songs in other worldly melodies,
beautiful hymns in soulful harmonies.
I exalt thee for through his voice
may my soul transgress and life ascend
so that I may rejoice and find an absolute end.