Here I sit in silence,
unbroken, and diligent.
Around you not a word,
nothing is spoken.

For I have learned,
to hold my thoughts dear,
keep them inside,
your words I don't want to hear.

Sharper than knives,
more vile than poison,
The mask of lies,
the path you've chosen.

I've never felt so,
until you made it be,
your words so cold,
killing, slowly, painfully.

Do you not see,
How you are?
How we perceive,
your malicious nature?

Like acid,
every word, a single drop,
burning slowly through the skin,
another word, another drop.

You may become still,
silent for the moment,
however the burn continues,
when words are unspoken.

Why can't you change,
do you not see what you've become,
reveal your true face,
the one you cover.

I wish sometimes to tell you,
I try so hard to reveal,
how you have hurt me,
your words, your evil.

But to show you,
would hurt you,
it would cause you pain,
I don't want to fan the flame.

I can't hurt you,
like you have me.
That is not who I am,
or who I want to be.



Schmertz-Lucien Freeman

Love said, “Wake still and think of me,”
Sleep, “Close your eyes till break of day,”
But Dreams came by and smilingly
Gave both to Love and Sleep their way.

Say it again
another ignorant rant
that only shows
the shallow mind
that dwells behind
those lost eyes

open your mind
broaden those thoughts
you’re on lock down
due to that one track
that makes up your mind
causing u to have
those lost eyes

my love flowed
endless
like the cycle of life
it died
in the midst of lies
i tried
to remain constant in honest ways
i too fell victim to a pair
of those lost eyes

scars cover my body
inside as well as out
from battles i fought
showing the severity of
each and every bout
football hurts
but not as much as
words escaping those lips
stabbing my body
tears form
in my lost eyes

up is down, down is up
left is right, right is wrong
logic is no more
once i catch a glimpse
of that black lace thong
seduction from the temptress
longing for more
staring on to me with those lost eyes

the vicious cycle continues
life tends to go on
i cant seem to find
the correct venue
to break the dreaded news
another has caught my eye
helped me find the way
2 way streets and a freeway
crowd my once narrow mind
that was hidden behind
my lost eyes
NOW FOUND

I took an ax to a tree,
And it said to me
"Explain life's purpose
Before you cut me down."

I said to him:
"Your hope is not to live,
But in death find peace.
A table to honor me."

“Don’t forget me. Okay? I want to be remembered. Just not this way. I will remember you as a dancer who could weave patterns through the rain. And you remember me in a sailors cap and dungarees.”

“The smell of this never seems to go away. I won’t forget you, though I may over look us sometimes, just the same. I meant it when I said it. But if you wouldn’t mind. Do your best to forget me if you please..”

The world was young, the mountains green,

No stain yet on the Moon was seen,

No words were laid on stream or stone

When Durin woke and walked alone.

He named the nameless hills and dells;

He drank from yet untasted wells;

He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,

And saw a crown of stars appear,

As gems upon a silver thread,

Above the shadow of his head



The world was fair, the mountains tall,

In Elder Days before the fall.

Of mighty kings of Nargothrond

And Gondolin, who now beyond

The Western Seas have passed away;

The world was fair in Durin's Day.



A king he was on carven throne

In many-pillared halls of stone

With golden roof and silver floor,

And runes of power upon the door.

The light of sun and star and moon

In shining lamps of crystal hewn

Undimmed by cloud or shade of night

There shone for ever fair and bright.



There hammer on the anvil smote,

There chisel clove, and graver wrote,

There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;

The delver mined, the mason built,

There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,

And metal wrought like fishes' mail,

Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,

And shining spears were laid in hoard.



Unwearied then were Durin's folk;

Beneath the mountains music woke:

The harpers harped, the minstrels sang

And at the gates the trumpets rang.



The world is grey, the mountains old,

The forge's fire is ashen cold;

No harp is wrung, no hammer falls,

The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;

The shadow lies upon his tomb

In Moria, in Khazad-dûm.

But still the sunken stars appear

In dark and windless Mirrormere;

There lies his crown in water deep,

Till Durin wakes again from sleep.

With broken ****** eyes he looked at me
And stared at me.
With legs and hands so tightly squeezed
I could not see.

Then my arm ran up his arm
And lifted up the hairs.
Eye and eye were met then wet,
I hated to care.

And then a whisper in my ear,
Familiar and loud.
And then the walk I'm used to,
With him, on the ground.

Eye and arm and hand and blood,
All became one.
Love and life and hate and blood,
All became one.