Never neverland upon a twilight sky,
where children play forever
whilst forgotten parents cry.

Is the sky the limit?
Can't we reach for the unknown?
Or are we just restricted, bound to our earthly home

WITH THE WORDS SHE WROTE
PASSIONATELY WITH HER PEN
YOU CAN FEEL THE INK
CRAWL UPON YOUR SOUL

HER CREATIVE YET HARD LIFE,
BLESSED US WITH HER POEMS
SHE IS WHAT SPIRIT CALLS LIFE

PAIN STRIFE LOVE ABUSED
SHE WILL NOT FALL DOWN
WITH THE STROKES OF THE INK
ITS WRITTEN HER PERSONALLY

LET MY WORDS CONSUME YOU
OPEN YOUR MIND BE NOT AFRAID
DARE TO BE THERE WITH ME

FIND THE PLEASURE
IN POEMS WRITTEN
NAUGHTY & SO DELICIOUS

READ THE STRUGGLES
TOUGH DAYS LONELY NIGHTS
LONGING TO BE LOVED
NEEDING TO BE HEARD

SURVIVING ON THE STROKES
OF MY HAND ONTO PAPER
IS THIS HOW IT ENDS
WRITING IN INK
THE RHYTHM OF MY LIFE
WORDS JUST WORDS WRITTEN

©

Hear and see before
you speak.

Lose me in his labyrinth, in his futile endless maze, for when the hunt is over I'll be lost upon his gaze.

He is not curious as a cat nor furious as a beast, we are just men within this maze but too him were his feast.

Our true worth we see before we die,
Our deeds through time are measured by those through grief that cry