Love not the taint of ladies of the night.
Their barren hearts intoxicate the
purest of faces, drowning courage
behind the lusts of false need.

Love not the corruption of the wages.
In life, desired.  In truth... a downfall
of the senses,  burdened by a murky
wave of greed and always more.

Love not the insistence of the glory.
A hollow shape. Not hallowed as some
believe,  but bereft.  Lacking a centre
of moral. A judgemental state of fear.

Remain empty. Remain a jug to be filled.
A *** to be planted. A trough to be doused
with nourishing, life giving water.
A dark room waiting for a single torch.

Remain chained. Remain imprisoned.
Become yourself in ******* then live
free of the lack of uncontrolled self tyranny.
Become yourself. No chains. A truth of life.

Some went West
and others went East.
The ones in between
found they liked South the least.

The traitorous winds
carried news from the mouth
of a stranger who wandered
the dreaded South.

They said:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

Those of the West,
those of the East,
and the Northern inbetweeners
listened with incredulity.

But the Southerner just repeats:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

"If we fight not for glory,
then why fight at all?
War is a necessary evil!"
Those Westerners say, how uncivil.

"Peace cannot yield
without sacrifice.
Someone always has to lose their life!"
Easterners cry full of strife.

"Freedoms are protected
if you follow the rules.
Speech must be regulated, calm, and cool."
Said from those under Northern rule.

But the Southerner repeats like a record loop:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

Then the wind finally stopped
spreading its message.
But the lofty seeds that traveled with the wind,
planted themselves in places they've never been.

And they started to grow into something more.
Freedoms and rules.
Peace and sacrifice.
Glory and War.

Dawn’s mist fogs street silent alongside young maple tree

Shopping for approaching fall colors stationary marketing facsimile

Tweed gold filigree in earth tones weaves laced crimson colored leaf

Semi-gloss polish proud in pattern seeks fashionable scene beneath

Veins of green leave summer, soon fade into myriads of tan

Brilliant boutique on city’s square leaves leaves numerous lone artisan

Last fling superb sure splendor, season’s seasoned leaves aflame

Attract eyes of passer’s by, Autumn in her glory to exclaim

Just a few more weeks of wonder until wind wings windbreak the spell

Of encaptured captured fall season until Autumn’s lustrous leaves fell

When we **** I shout: s. o. s. la vida
‘Cause our bed is more like a corrida
But when I stare at my ring with a pearl
I ask myself again, am I that girl?
When I take Mexican tic tacs with Corey
I feel like Christ is sending me that glory
But when I’m on the ground and start to curl
I whisper to myself, am I that girl?
And when I’m dancing ******* on a bar
I feel like killer **** movie star
I finish twenty lemon drops and swirl
While crying to myself, am I that girl?!

"The Glory"

The glory of the universe
Is formed between the ears
Thoughts are reality
Aspects of eternity
Flowing aimlessly
Through the mind
Until we shape them
We create our own world
Within
Influenced by
The without
Sometimes
Even controlled