Oh,

to fall in love with a poet.

How strange it would be

writers of darkness who share their nonsense

in passionate form.

I'd fall in love with a poet

to dream with her

of what could be.

Oh to dream,

of one who understands me.

Is it you miss poet,

is it you

who understands me?

I dove in head first--
didn't think about it
let the huge bubble
around me burst--
ignored the warning signs
of shallow water all around
not the least fearful
of landing on the ground
instead of the murky, watery sea--
but the ground came fast
and slammed right into me--
still I got my *** right back up again
and climbed that huge ladder
all determined to be the one to win
and jumped this time feet first--
and yep,
still made that bubble burst,
but this time I landed smack into the sea
and swam far, far away from here
seems it was finally my time to just be free!

Channel your energy.

Then don't change the channel.

Channel your energy.

Then don't drain the channel.

you love how your sun rises bright
though she always sets by noon
i promise to be by your side
like the persistence of the moon

but let me know if her brightness stings
if its past dawn and u couldnt sleep
let my waning light meet ur skin
take shelter in my muted dim

let my downy embrace envelope
your every lesion
cautiously i will stroke
every region
she must have missed

but who can blame her
no one is ever surprised about this
you can leave anyone in distrait
with that wicked smile on your face

now as we are on the verge of daybreak
shes rises back as a ravishing view
always as beautiful as our eyes can take
so who can blame you?

Struggle has been always
My eternal aim
As everybody makes me feel
It's a shame

As I will never give a ****
Or think to say something the same
Once they ponder or think it's ephemeral
I'd say it will continue to my funeral

I doubt them saying that's insane
As I'll just say the same

Since I knew them dooming
Goals and aims
and will always be looming

As you know hopes will haunt my thinking
sounds like they are trying to exorcise my dreaming
Creepy so it seems, I hope them thinking about conjuring
They are just virtues which are residing

It doesn't hurt that much,
I got my plenty sources who have been
And will always be
Supporting and backing.

So as I bet they simulate epics,
no hunch and so positive I am
they can be psychics
and shrinks.

For what it worth.
Every inch of me.
Aches.
In pain.
And agony...
Yet.
Not in the way you.
Percieve.
I anger.
At all the moments that remain.
Tucked away.
Solemn.
The quiet.
Deafens me.
Torment in the likes of hidden emotions.
Behind pleasant smiles.
I come crawling.
Beaten.
Starving.
I hunt the ever elusive affection.
Most nights it remains just out of reach.
I cannot deny.
This desire.
Regardless of what i have sustained.
Each wound evaporates by morning.
And with each new moon.
Do i become.
A more perfect hunter.

It's not how many times I  retreat,
it's how many times I come back
that makes a man of a boy.

With the very last ounce of strength
its tiny, broken body brings,
it takes one final shot at life,
and slowly, once more, ***** its wings.