My heart fell off her shelf
hit the hard floor
of life
shattering all my
dreams
and all the cracks
fell apart
and it seemed
to be only a ghost
of a chance . . .
or none at all

Whose to blame here ?
After all I opened the door and let you in
Whose crazy idea thought this is finally
my search come to an end ?

So all my hopes are swept under a sea
estranged where all the monsters of my past reign
Below the ***** paws of
dragon flies shame

(Fractured Fairytale #99)

beneath the bends of Barrymoor . . .

on the southwest winds she chants some more . .

the clouds scoot by beneath full moon . . .

some say she's crazy like a loon . . .

dressed in Black she cackles back while tossing ashes from a velvet sack . . .

then she throws her body down . . .

moans and sobs into the ground . . .

a dagger she does draw it forth . . .

holding high for all its worth . . .

she shrieks and damns her birth . . .

then plunges it into her heart . . .

. . . so ends the life of the young ****. . .


now the owls come fluttering in . . .

alighting next to still warm skin . . .

all walk around the disposed young beast . . .

only uttering "Who ?" to say the least . . .

then the Great Owl comes fluttering in . . .

he'd be a giant if he were made of men . . .

he collectively surveys the scene . . .

takes a few steps before he says a thing . . .

"Take her body to Evermore !" . . .

the great one does order and implores . . .

and all the owls take to wing . . .

holding the remains of the breathless thing . . .

and take her earthly shell away . . .

"To the sacred woods of Evermore ."

yes sacredness be in evermore .  . .

To live a good life that’s effective
You have to be somewhat selective
Your mind isn’t frozen
Your thoughts can be chosen
The truth after all is subjective

To learn :

one must hear

as they speak .

How much land you
possess to stand on? Fading of age helps.
One day you will go or I will go.

The sculptor on sand
makes a sculpture of
river flowing without water.

Like we are empty.
The love has dried up in the eyes
to complete the story midway.

what does the utterer give to the prayer?

Doubt, fear, and insecurity subside into apathy,
And the ink dries with those dark lies.