I may not have heard you call my name
*but i felt your spirit

Tis but a dream I scream I scream
My body weak and weary

I lay in bed with throbbing head
And thoughts dark and dreary

I sing the song, What's wrong? What's wrong?
Am I left forgotten?

This be said, face turn red
Stomach spoiled and rotten

Demons spawn, be gone, be gone
As they take my breath

Be pearly gate or hell as fate
I've come to my death

I like pens that bleed
Ink that smears
Girls with scars
Broken parts
***** clothes
Stained sheets
The hint of blood
The taste of lust
The smells of love
Nights through morning
Mornings to night
Suns that sleep
Moons that dream
And all the pretty
You hide underneath
Those pretty
Pretty
Pretty things

By Arcassin Burnham

Wishes turn to prayers with all the lies and
The betrayal then you add in to the mix of
The feeling of hell and all it's angels turn
To demons,
They prevail,
When the clock strikes twelve,
Putting you in harms way would be the best
Way considering the sacrifice in ones heart.


/


Conversation escalated to an all out war,
Get a sense of realization when I walked
Out of that door,
Took all my barrings with me even took
My clothes out of that closet,
Let my pride my take over and washed my
Hands in that disgusting faucet,
Cant let you know how i really feel,
I guess it's a quest if you wanna know
what's real,
I made something pretty that I think you
Would like,
Its so florescent,
beautiful and bright,
That you'll  never leave it's sight.

return the sun's rays catch a bucket of rain
be the sky for one minute
a cloud fleeting
be a squirrel in an oak tree
or a rose in some  garden
or  the  beach as the sea laps at me
be a star or the moon
be something
truer
more causal
more a part
of everything
take that bucket of rain and fly
above the desert
and cry forever
happy then