How can you
blame me when
you made
me this way.
You gave me
free will, and knew
what I would do.
You predestined me
to lose.
I didn't choose
these terrible
wings of destiny;
you did it for me.
I wanted to be
Michael or Gabriel instead
of Lucifer.
I know there needed
to be a war,
and an enemy,
but why me?
I despise this
black soul.

If it's all predestined
then that means
it's all already occurred
and everything has already passed
  and there is no present or future
   there is only that which already is...

All I can say to you is
we've been royalty for so long
that this is our lifetime
to feel the pain.

It was the only way we could finally find our way home
to our humanity,
maybe?

Back to ourselves, so that we could save all the rest.

It's not fair
and it's ****** up
and we've CHOSEN ALL of it.

And the only way to find our way back,
is thru our connections with others.

The only way thru
Is to walk
in the mud and muck and mire.

We WILL come out clean & clear
on the other side.

We must NEVER forget who & what we truly serve
or why
we've lowered ourselves upon this hallowed ground.

Every pain, loss, debasement and sorrow
serves that one final purpose
our soul always senses and falls before and upon.

I'm so sorry.
I saw it all.
Knew it all.
And stood silently before it all,
in Service
to the One Final Purpose
and also,
To Your Greater Good, My Luv.

So Quit Whining.
We agreed to this
before we even arrived.

And in the end, that which is served validates all.

If You Really Listen,
Without Just Waiting To Talk,
You Know That It's True...

love was there,
I couldn't see her,
got caught  once again,
in red mist,
kicking for reactions,
with a litany long, list,
love doesn't act like this,
she hugs you closer,
plants a kiss,
on kicking boot, when hurled out door,
her sweet voice moans,
I love you more.
loves you, when you're at the gate,
swings on the axe,
that pounds out hate ,
love held you closer,
talks soft and low,
she understands your feeling so,
"at least" she whispers,
"you act so real,
when tormented by, the way you feel",
She never judges, never warns,
sits with you
all night and day,
she doesn't tell you "life is grand",
just feels your pain
holds your hand,
illuminates your pardon if you need,
kisses your wounds,
when you bleed,
she holds your face, tousles your hair,
rebuilds your temple,
with special care
hugs warmly, when you shake with fear,
i didn't know,  that she was there,
following down to depths of earth,
walks with you in fire,
rubs off the dirt,
she carries a light profound, from skies above,
the twinkling of stars,
white feathers, peace dove.
She is there for everyone,
all are equal under this sun.

The inner critic
protects me from
reality and success;
It knows best.
It reminds me of
my hopeless plight,
my dark destiny,
my night of a
thousand storms.

Councillors say,
"Examine those thoughts.
Challenge them, are
they rational? "
I nod and smile,
and somewhere there
is a sparrow in me
that wants to sing,
that agrees with
the blue skies, and
the trees, and the wings
that have carried it
away from the pain.

But then the critic
and its minions
chatter away, and
remind me of failures,
they say,
"The play has already been written.
You're just doing your part-
your small walk-on part.
You don't get to rewrite it.
It's been written, it's finished.
You being a writer must appreciate
irony, isn't it ironic;
Thomas, no matter
how bad you want it,
you can't have it.
It's been decided, it's predestined,
long before you were born.
You lose, some win, but not you."

I faintly hear the dying song
of the sparrow, as I rise once again
and stumble towards the abyss.

You did not choose your father,
Neither did your father knew you;
Your birthright was only seeming,
Never yours from the beginning.

As waters separated from waters,
So sheep separated from goats.
But there is no seas in the end,
And all tares burned and wheat gathered.

May take a bit to come down from seclusion.
Climbing for a gain, knew what I was losing.
It's on the T that time is balanced,
and I've seen it cemented.
It's on the scene with all the extras,
and I've seen myself in the crowd.

The person you are
If moulded by previous experiences
Will die indefinitely the same
Indifferent to change

The present marches on a straight line
Delusional by unclear skies,
Believes in free will
And the power to create

So lost is this ship in your ocean
That even the amicable stars
Collude with clouds
—In the frame of the sky
To cloak the referral to my compass,
To keep me from my contrived destination.

Only after aeons thence do I value Earth's opinion,
And know,
That—
'twas not collusion
'twas aspiration,
That I was being guided to my shipwreck
To go deeper in you
Be consumed by you,
O! My predestination!