I come here to purge my words and thought.
To cast off webs in which my mind is caught.

To mend a soul defeated by life's battles fought.
To understand the lessons that experience has taught.

Where others say that life is much too short.
My mind just asks why I go on multiplying nought.

Lessons learned but so very dearly bought.
Isolated mind my safety and protective fort.

Ideas and frustrations my writings have tried to sort.
And sorted through I conclude I did it all for naught.

Why are you here
Born, lost and bred
See some ideas to an end
The aim to do more often begets form

A middle depends
When identity strikes down the spine
Life will heal or harm
A day in this age generates pace
Prepare before to reinforce fate
as luck can change
If there's space on the stage
Search for the answers that your question relates

Catch the gaze of another
When they dazzle and charm
Turn in on yourself as we show our face
Segregated ways often reflect mixed intent
Does everything begin with the opportunity cost of regret
Review how you start before we depart and are spent

Þis world ain’t so vast and different
From þose found in what’s written
             We write grand and tremendous of all þings
Þat we’ve imagined and delved deeply
              to try oh so potently tu give revealing
Yet when we look about and just see unobscured and clearly
       Unperceiving and wiðout þinking
             Giving þe world its chance to speak frankly
                   It’ll display tragic n pretty
                         for you n me þose þings most true
                                 Beyond suggestion ann interpreting
                                       Just simply incessant beauty
                                            in an unceasing locomotion

Amazing how the venom glows
So easy on the eyes
I'll poison myself with your touch
And breathe my last in sighs

Burn my veins in place of the warmth
I thought would be my prize
How sweet the bile that's killing me
How tender my demise

Inspiration, pouring now,
into the *** of my own head,
An idea is formed, one drop,
eventually,i overflow,
but inspiration's slow-
and so-
i'll wait some more, and then i'll go.