By Arcassin Burnham

You can't join,
What's a man to do to get his own peace?
Mind in a place with no granders,
Living day by day with no say and no law
and no purpose,
Hope it's worth it,
Still don't wanna create a life in world
that displays its okay to cheat on your wife
and lie,
Good thing I'm one of the good ones,
Pretending not to be the hood ones.

In the beginning there was
the word.  Abracadabra.
As I speak, so will I create.
Let there be light. Let there be love.    
  Let there be all the goods things that we have been dreaming of.
As above so below. Know thyself.

I have robbed myself bare
With the belief that I am the exception
Taking everything I love
With no remorse
and no room for redemption

A destined ****** sinner
With the heart of a child
One step from a killer
plagued by her own selfish mind

Moving forward as if all-knowing
And guided from above
But led alone by the fear and the loathing
With the grace of a caged dove

My wicked ways still vile
As I age with the years
But the need for change is deafening
It rings cold through my ears

My heart craves absolution,
peace of mind,
a friend,
or some kind of resolution

But upon finding the love of creation
And the idea of what could be
I ache for the past no longer
For my dove is set free

Hollow abysses of anguish, lie deep within a poets eyes

Creativity is a result of torment
Poetry is beauty written by the miserable