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Never had roses touched my lips
and left the sweet taste of morning dew

And never had curls entangled my mind
holding my inspiration captive

Never had words choked my tongue
like a spoon full of cinnamon

And fingers chilled my hips
even freezing time

Never has a sun melted
and the stars raced for a glimpse of a first kiss

And never had eyes reflected love
or has a heart warmed the depths of the ocean

Forget anyone who doesn't make you feel like the only rose on Earth
It's the silence,

Right before the sky roars,
And lightning strikes,

Before wind claws at the walls,
leaving behind thick heavy air,

Before the sky lets loose,
The hell of a tornado,

Before the ocean's wrath,
While it Devours and takes.

But it's the silence after,
That aches the most,

Leaving behind shaking hands,
Of trembling fear.
I hate the silence more than the fight
His closing crescent eyes,
Glazed in glass,
Rotate my speckled sky,
But when his rising baby blues,
Of jagged ice,
Crystallize my aching chest,
My fragile stone,
Of frozen love,
Shatters to his solemn drum.
He stood alone
Against the crowds of the world
Conquered years ago by the hunger of demons
And the maddening roar of an engine
Devouring miles of his sanity

He was Abandoned
by blood and love
Strung out to evaporate
in the sun His mind shriveled
and his heart pruned
And time's cruel grip on his fate
Left him alone
between two continuous lines
He was unwillingly destined to follow

And He had dreams too.
Poorly written words on a page
Where empty thoughts lingered
And memories intertwined into a mess
For a vivid second stood still
But now lost
To the next
And twiddling thumbs
Could not persuade time to dance
To the dull echo of forgotten passions
The Repetition of a muscle beating
Pumping for some other significance
Yet the poor waiting soul survives
Not living, surviving
In a state of impenetrable grayness
Aging only for the sake of it
fading like shadows to cloudy skies
The dullness drags
Sizzling into flames,
the crisps of fall,

To crunching steps,
On the brink of winter's chills,

Echoing silence,
And the cold clarity,

Of Soberness giving,
To a feckless heart,

Fading into an absence of control,
Blurred. Flashing. Spinning.

The flames dance,
Spiraling into the stars,


The wind bites,
And the ashes spin,


Caught my reflection,
Absently staring back,

Warm Blood,
dripping out,

Crystal eyes,
Blinking, harder.


The dreams,
Hum in my ears,

Setting fire,
To a pulled muscle,

Whispering trees,
Tangling a deeper mess.
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