I could tell by the morning,
The weather would be daunting and yet so calm.
I could tell that day that the peonies would breathe through the flicker of wind,
And still be going.
Living, death, moving, dead; my body stopped but my mind rocked.
What is happening?

Being taught that we have a right to be here humoured me,
Because I felt I wasn't fully there.
Being taught that love makes the world go around amazed me,
That wasn't true since I felt no sympathy on me, yet I still beg.
Believe us now, or live it miserably.
Are you telling the truth?

Are the bees really here to help our sale of honey?
Are the horses really here to help us travel and teach our children of riding?
Are the aliens really there to keep us wondering?
Teach us that we are worth more than a thousand words,
Before we turn cold, yet have a living soul slowly sinking.
Please, where is my answer?

***** water rushing down
From a mountain path of fake forgiveness.
Flowing into broken windows
Of what was once your home.

Winged creatures walking
Not using the splintered extra limbs.
Chant "four-eyes, four-eyes", oh,
My mutated eyes,
How they burn.

The smoke is rising, higher
Into my face.
Blow away.
Choking, wheezing, dying,
My family, where are they now?
Are they decorating the walls
You created with our now polished bark?

Take back your unapproved ways
And remove your mark.
Give back our wild lives, not leaving us as strays.
Stop claiming us as your property,
Because all of this was once ours only to us.

Awake on that morning not dressed in costume but with the words of evil.
Take your wildest fantasy and throw it in the flame of dark,
Flying out of control like the soul of a raven and crow.
Guard the gate with your boiled nose and cheeks and your poison tipped fangs,
Show them that you are worthy and belong.

Live through that day not decorating but hiding away from the light and natural.
Burrow your soul under spells or wooden floors and allow him to borrow it,
Let the smoke inhale you for a change.
When you feel the melted wax seep into your skin,
Prepare for the hardened struggle and clench Death when you can.

Flourish through that night with the bristled fur flowing down your spine,
With those wretched wings stretching out of your mutated bones and mangled skin.
Collecting candy through the sugared blood in your victims,
You find your own Heaven before you descend to Hell.
Dig the dirt beneath you with your curled claws and let your inner Demon howl for all the times you made Them feel pain.

Your mind was small, innocent,
And you rested your head against a mothers red breast
During the dark and cold Winter nights.
The pure feeling of protection was all you could ever feel,
Oh, how you would change.

You slightly knew what "love" was and had the unhealthy desire
For a red rose to bring your grey and soul-less eyes to tears.
You were wrong and failed to see the good things you already had
And decided to push them away, because you were never taught
How to notice.

Memories lurk, especially those of his forbidden silver lust for you
That would result in your red blushing cheeks.
You both have a deep hatred for that.
He lied, forced, and sickened you, so much to the point
That he stole your happiness.

And, today, you have learnt to constantly be aware of things
Which is now called, your friend, Paranoia.
Learn to live with him, though,
For he is just a reminder that all this time
All you wanted was a warm red hand
To perfectly hold your to-be flourishing, only presently sooty lifeless ashes.

For so long, the blood in my dreams
Have been haunting my every day.
It's simple now, the writing, the breath from me
But in night in my cold sweat,
The dead awaken me.
Shaking me and taunting, I heard their former life.
Happiness.
So much expression.

Then, my hand would shake and linger
On the metaphorical picture frame,
Printed in a gruesome gloss
Were their eyes.
Staring into deep slumber ahead.
The slashing I had acted, presenting power, I was tricked,
This was not heroic.
Nor did I feel like justice had been fairly given.
Alas,
Foul play still dripped from my course.
Constantly silenced, the Elder demanded me,
I had no more expression.

I will tell a story, yes,
Of a man who once told I,
Be the better man, and so I ran,
As far as my corrupted heart could go on for.
Thrown back and forth, my emotions twirled,
Danced and beat themselves up,
Where was I to go?
I wanted to start a new life, that of a renewed man,
Unlike my old road I blindly stumbled,
Decision was chosen upon, to be good,
A taboo, where I formerly originated.
I had found my growing expression.

Since the sprint, of a true heart,
The window of sunlight shines bright on my face
Like that of redemption from a real sun god.
One that protects.
The days of acceptance grew on me,
And I struggled.
But I found that self forgiveness
Is one of the best moralities.
And for every daisy I gently nurture,
Every apple I pick from the branch,
And for every child I inspire,
I pray they subconsciously believe in me,
Build my positive aroma for all of those who see me,
And hope that the word gets passed on
To every unfortunate soul,
That the man that untimely battered them,
Is now on a journey
To restore your stolen expression.

What was with all the arguments?
Maybe it is between two rights,
Yet both are wrong and frail.
My whole soul and body,
Destroying one another,
Leaving all of me, but every part,
Different thoughts.

And with that,
My face in level with the chandelier.
My eyes held on your particular shape, screaming have mercy,
But my mind,
Ruthless.

And so it was,
My solitary, personality adapted being,
Grasp and exit - but without limbs,
Float away,
My sweet angel.

There is a simplicity in a weakened life releasing her inner thoughts
Through the comfort of rough blankets and throbbing hands.
Look at how she stares with a blank glare,
Is it scary?
Of course she is a former soldier.
Could you not tell already?

The relaxing energy coming off of her comes from somewhere.
Perhaps, it may have leaked from her ***** where her love spills,
Or have you ever thought that it might just be what she wants?
That poor, poor girl, thinking she is zero.

He is nothing but kind, look at those glimmering bones
Shaped like perfectly polished love.
Although, he often sits alone and wonders
Is this all he is?
I have seen with my broken and dull sockets the inside and out of that boy.
I think it's amazing, do you not agree?
She gave him a little something with four letters and it is not what you think.

They are connected through the future and yet it spikes them in the throat.
Fall in my arms and clasp my back.
Hear my heartbeat and feel me for the second time, please.
You make me sick with your originality,
I have never experienced such a unique specimen,
Will it create them but with us as an example?
Continue to make me feel special my precious flower,
Collect my sweet waters from the dirt and make me bloom
Into what we want so very dearly.

The cliche love story moments
When we would play the "I love you more" game,
And we still do.
It is amazing how two worthless humans like us
Are regarded as a perfect pair, I agree,
You make me feel a little less colder.

You gripped my shoulder with those cold veins,
I liked that.
Your lips pressed against my cheek, oh man,
That was the moment I clicked,
I decided and knew, you made me insane,
Both sides now crave you, Darling.
Do not turn me into a monster like they did.

My boy, my love, I love your perfect everything.
Everything adds up, you saved me, right?
Or is he hiding behind that mask, again?
Please don't let the Darkness stay with me, **** them,
I am begging you, save me.
And you will, I know that, I see my poison has emerged
Into beautiful rose water because of you.