For he hurled  the stone,
                            casting it with anger...


And so the first sin was sewn..
                   For the wrath of another showed
that we were the picture of god,


If we were imperfect,
                then our creation was flawed
beyond the reflection of our birth.

The stone was never perfect but
                    flawed when created.

Hit & run..

The moment were surrounded
          by deep breaths of nothingness.

But we swear we
                    can feel it touching our neck..

                               was that you..

                               wait no ones here..
oh' ****...
                                         silence....

The tears that razor emotions bleed,
                  can we ever recover from

those momentary eclipses

that smother light from the darkest needing..
                                                               Silence...

Deeply suicidal
                                               and
momentarily insane.

for the need to drown
out the noise of depression.


I fall into the crest of every wave,
             hoping each will


wash my pain away.

But the reality is I



drown deeper.

When the hands motion words silent,
                               but full of forlorn grief.

They cry for love that was muted,
    but looks are glazed
   as there last breath whimpered silently.

And the words dead to ears,
                        "I love you,

As they walk out the door,
                                  crying at there loss.

Death is beauty,
               as the rose atop of death
feeds on the nourishment of
                                   an empty shell.


Even though its petals decay,
                              its reaches higher

than the tomb
                      to bring life crimson to the surface.