Rough cobblestone betrayed stealthy shoes
As she rushed inside from fierce winds that blew
Turning on the kettle with ease
Stirring inside her mug the tea leaves
Reading and waiting in relief from the cold
Seated, solitary, sound in her soul
Future’s Phantoms and Past’s Pesks
Were barred from activity duty, assigned to old desks
And she was contented with brilliant bows
Placed upon life’s box, wrapped in serenity’s gold
For she held what birthday’s usually see
Or what others place under a Christmas tree

As I scale the *****
I note the melody of the wind
With its sweeping symphonic shifts
My nails grind against granite
Before flaking and falling into the abyss
Yet I persist
Upward along the lone path
Where the air recedes like tides
And frost forms fellowship upon my eyes
Before seeking to turn my sore limbs, frigid
Icily assuring each ache is anchored in anxiety
Which stems from the worn clothes of society
Yet as I climb, the fabric is discarded
Like old styles of yesteryear
Now basking in all my naturalness
I finally summit, my thoughts thankfully descend
My heart lifts up its scepter and then my chin
Beating with Brilliance it grins
Furls up it sleeves and wordlessly begins
The work of healing from within

Pleasures spiral and sprawl outward
Escaping the small chamber your parents regulated it to
Devouring dollops of your time
Until you become sick and restless
Fevers, blankets, and soup for recovery
Seeking madness once you’re rested and wrestling with boredom
This ruinous routine is never naturally rundown
Only perishing once true passion is found

She’s soft and scented in *****
Aromas of fine wine, upon her skin cruise
She holds her glass steady, then takes a sip
Eyes cast out to sea, under the waves her thoughts slip
As if everything around her, was but a blip
Some passerby wants to ask what’s she thinking
But seeing her so relaxed, instead asked what’s she drinking

Peace,
Solace is my addiction.

My continuous affliction with change foreshortens my perception of peace.

Give me a taste and I shall not waste a drop,
Send it through my veins to take hold,
And seethe.

Peace,
Solace is my addiction,

How I've turned such a beautiful word,
To poison,
And torture...

My beautiful affection to the untouchable, unreachable,
The next best thing?

I like to think,
To be loved,
To love,
To hold,
To shoulder your burdens and see a smile that just so happens to be my fault.

A ruthless addiction,
Such is Love.

~Robert van Lingen

Oh come fallen angel
Cure my heart of it's regret
Kiss my neck tenderly
Whisper your story so bittersweet

In lunacy, my mind dares dabble
Asleep at last, I face your gaze
The sorrowful eyes of my forsaken flower
Your wings once golden, now rest black
Envelop me within their grasp

Too much pain, my name forgotten
A relic of time fit for a coffin
Boldly did you take my hand
My rescue was your master plan

Dreams still withered
Scars last forever
Solace is your hand in mine
From now until the end of time