soul; an archive of feelings, a vulnerable collection of eleven entries. an true archive of feelings. mysterie's first ever project.

these entries are very special and vulnerable, mysterie hopes to connect with fellow poets and poetry lovers with these entries.

the archives:
- i waited
- the way i used to
- the ocean knows me
- waiting
- i still care
- where the soul weeps
- tsunami
- begin again
- the book you left open
- dusk
- chosen

You’re wrestling the devil, fighting to be “the man”
When you wrestle the devil, its catch-as-catch can
It’s no holds barred, anything goes, a regular street fight
The world is watching the main event on Saturday night
It’s a death match; the winner takes it all
The match is scheduled for TV time, or one fall

The devil is tricky, he’s got friends outside the ring
Whips, chains, tables and chairs, that’s what they bring
Sorrows got you in the corner, headlock squeezing tight
Best do something quick, even if you have to bite
Pains have got you down, in the center of the mat
He’s got you trapped, like a big city rat
You need to break free, get out of his hold
If you don’t, you’ll be stuck, like the cheese and the mold
You’ve got to keep moving, you better have a plan
When you wrestle the devil, its catch-as-catch can

The crowd is roaring; it’s time to bust out your moves
Careful now, watch him Jim, look out for those hooves
You got him on the ropes, with help from some fan
When you wrestle the devil, it’s catch-as-catch can

Now it’s time the show is over, they called it a draw
He would have had you, except for that one little flaw
He didn’t know you had faith and truth on your side
When he came up against that, all his threats died
You wrestled the devil, now he knows you’re “the man”
When you wrestle the devil, its catch-as-catch can

She's a pure hearted girl
with the happiest soul
She talks to the moon
listens to the trees
speaks with the animals
and compliments the flowers

Yet, often she feels sad
because she loves too much
and thinks too deep
Her nights are sometimes dark
But every time
she pulls herself back together
and decides
that her personality
is too positive
to be so negative.

L.C.

You are indeed art.
Something I can not add on to
due to you already wielding the energy
that is so deathly breathtaking.
My eyes stretch to see as far as your soul.
I’ll never get close enough to touch the colors that perfectly line into your being.
It’s more than awareness of your existence.
nothing is perfect
but what soothed me was your completeness.
You are whole.
He is art.
The only thing to depict you, for art is the only thing I can love from a distance and now so are you.
You are indeed art.
From possession to perception.
Commitment to acceptance.
Grasping to gazing.
Wholeness. Admiration. Art.