Tomorrow, a private dance will be ending
The sky will yield a bird its blue
All shall wonder at the sight of a new beginning
On a wild pathway
Full of bountiful
Truth

No dark shadows shall dream behind our eyes
Roses will slumber in perfect peace
We will all wonder at this beauty as we sigh
Now understanding  
That our pain  
Will cease

Our valleys shall again belong to us one and all
Embraced by the arms of calming winds
We will all smile in wonder as we hear the call
Of our beautiful world
Turning round
Again

Today, we stand in silence, awaiting this last dance
A whole reflection of what will be
As time grows we smile and await this chance
To walk this pathway of truth
While birds make ready
To be free

I am ***
inadmissibly slapped too many times
bruised and shapely underneath my jeans
moving with defening sound waves
I have grown tired of your exploitations

what started as a touch,
became a stranglehold.
a distorted reality on the opposing side
of a clouded shield.
stripped of inhibitions,
and covered in loneliness.
a gentle graze, an eager smile,
and two glasses of deception
were the ingredients to a recipe
for sweet catastrophe.
as smooth as sandpaper,
contact would inevitably wear down
the other surface
to be as fine as sands of an hourglass
draining until the glass is empty.