When you think I've left this earth,
Look closely and you'll find that I'm still here.
I left a trail, ink, blood, tears, smiles and of lead.
My blood made of ink and pencil lead will not allow me to be dead.
My blood inked many of a tear, some on my behalf as well as what others did fear.
My blood inked many memories that made me smile.
So when in doubt follow my paper trail and you'll find me there. ~SacredInkedBlood 05/08/2018©

The feeling of the pencil in my hand scratching against paper wasn't familiar but i liked it

The pencil accidentally stabs a cut into the skin of my hand and i cry out in pain

I can feel the pencil rolling away from my hand and the paper

I squeeze the skin together, trying to close up the scratch

Funny how quickly life can change in an instant

Here we are, at the edge of our hearts, singing, dancing and playing.
I know I want you to come with me,
And I'll take you there.
You only have to take my hand and follow along.
"I'll follow you to the end, come and stay.
I'll be there,
Waiting until the time for us to be together,
And if you don't want me to come around,"
Then I'll take the rains and lead you, to my heart
"I'll be waiting around for you
And if I'm not there, I'll be there, I'll be there
Waiting, for the day I see your smile."

Just because you're lonely
Don't let people use you

Poetry is heavy as lead
in my mouth.

Tree branches find more grace
in a wind that’s ragged.

My head asks what is the matter
My heart does not know the trouble
The sun shines more brilliant
The clouds draw imagine of beautiful pattern

The butterflies fly in the two rows
Dancing a smart dance as the great dancers
The leaves salute the winds with great tending

The winds pass so light and so guide
My mind asks and the world responds
The love appears and the peace governs
The world bows even the hate increases

The killing draw an optimistic imagines
it greets these were killed
and accuses these killings
Even the most powerful supports
Even the world tries to close his eyes
The freedom opens its arms
For long hugs for these downers
For who wants to get their land free and  peace

Even they expose to dead or gets injures
Their blood will the sign for the world letting them down
They will complain to the God for this unbalance
The justice is crippled,  the justice will lead to the death

Blued, nickel reflecting light,
Shining on the Reaper.
Frosted steel
Open-mouthed,
Longing to swallow
A half-dozen biscuits

1 part Copper,
1 part brass,
2 parts lead,
1 part saltpeter,
1 part charcoal,
1 part sulfur,

The recipe for the dough.

Once masticated
in jaws of tungsten
It spits the metal bolus,
And gives new name to grim.