Maiden mater, maiden’s gore,
for plenty sorrow, plenty sore
has struck into the slow foreshore
maiden's stature,
how I long!
to reminisce all summer long
toward the blurry winter light
I'll breathe away the rancid spite
and see and subtly close my eyes,
and climb into the auburn sky.

Its about all I can take
This woolly MAMMOTH
Extinction at stake

You make me SICK
which flaw will I pick

Your upturned SMILE
with sadness drawn across
for miles

Your metallic
sanguine thick SICK

You are platinum
Numb
White gold WITHERED
Dumb

Metal breaks what
Sticks and STONES
Make

I again visited my garden of despair
Watered with tears of woes and neglect
And now that the pond of bliss is arid
I once again asked myself
What flowers can thrive on these barrens?
Then I glanced at the blossoms of withered memories
Scattered as wreckage from a landslide
The bushes of harrowing pain I found
Arranged in a line of endless thorny shrubs
Decayed trees bearing the fruit of deceit
Still cast a shadow of contorted lies
I then trod as lightly and slowly as I could
Then plucked a fruit from a rotten tree and got its seeds
And with a chalky smile I hummed a quiet tune
Even in the death of my garden
I saw the promises of healing
As I walked past the rusty trellises and tarnished fences
I welcomed my sanguine memories of perfect and scented blooms
Visions of sun-drenched leaves greeted my anguish with a sliver of silver lining
It doesn’t matter if my garden left me with nothing
What now matters most is here in my hands are seeds of hope

Be happy they say
As if its a command, a switch, a lever
So simple to them
They do not see
How intangible it is for us

The ones who refuse to pretend
To lie to ourselves
To lie to everyone

Be happy they say,
Be happy