#edgar
Old proclivities breathing into old predilections
Removing the shadows of aching heart
Old habits forming back like wicked infections
Haunted heads breeding hate in part
Holding onto harrowing hills that dwell within my dreams
You will never find yourself in among the few.
Holding Hope is having heartache dressing up your schemes
If you never build upon it into something new
Dealing with shadowed recesses - lost in my reverie
I had a father once - sisters many - a daughter and my sons
These is my lost Lenore dancing in misery
This is the consolation - prize my heart has won
Sorrows many and fear so deep
That steals me away
Plaguing all I ever loved
Taking my peace to keep
And a nod to my "dad"
That I never really had -
Is all I ever loved - A mere dream within a dream?
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 4:05 PM UTC
DANASH MARX KRAFTSMAN III
The Knight, She calls me –
The Nightingale, She calls Us.
The Raven - It causes me –
To Cry out – Evermore!
Oh My Lost Love – Are you lost to me -
Evermore
Taken - No Whisked away - to settle a score
Beneath the only honest moon
Harvest Red, a child gone too soon
Rachel cries out in the streets
Echoing reminders of little feet
Running on my kitchen floor
This – My heart – MY lost Lenore
My pain
Evermore
Thus – My heart – Shattered
Perhaps on some far plutonian shore
Where the raven’s beak – kisses
Me soft, Like a tapping or a rapping – upon my door.
Or a window lattice
The only sound-
Evermore!
You my father –
Poetry
A muse forever dark.
Melody -
My mother
Lit an eternal Spark
David with his Laments
And Solomon with his Keys
Everything I ever wanted
Was to please – THEE.
Therefore-
ever-more
Father, Son, and Breath of Life,
Spirit - Holy - That soothes my mind run rife
The Father, Jehovah, Yaweh, Alpha and Omega -
Thank you - You tell me of my life and heart
You keep me from falling completely apart
Jesus Christ, My Lord and Savior
Keeps me out of mortal danger
He holds me close by His side
whenever I feel the need to hide
Evermore.
Evermore
Evermore
I am healed.
I can feel
I will be elated
I will not be jaded
I will find a new ground to break
I will hold the smile I was going to fake
I will let the mask drop at will
I have always been a Christian, and I love God still
Evermore
He loves me
Evermore
He'll hold me
Evermore
He lets me see
Evermore
Evermore
Ever...More...
Dec 27, 2025
Dec 27, 2025 at 4:41 AM UTC
I close my eyes to nothing
A dreary darkness holds me until
I find myself falling into the distance beneath
Falling into the chasms of broken hopes and dreams
Falling into nowhere
Until I have lost touch with reality
Until my whereabouts are disconnected
Torn into shreds of existence, where no one may locate them again
Until I feel that I stop
Stop in the middle still floating into the inky black of the chasms that endeth not
Stopped at the very fabric of a world we live in
Completely stopped
Until I see shapes
Iridescent triangle and out of these mere triangles more come out
Until they become kite shaped
Of the deepest hues of black and white
Circling me surrounding me
Suffocating me
Until they then knock some common sense into me
I float there and realize
Like a stationary doll that has unwinded its troubles into the owner
Like hamster that lay there defenseless from the predator
Useless in all realization
It is then and only then, I find myself what fear really is
It is simple
You are not scared of the dark nor of creepy white being that haunt our lives named ghosts
No, you are not
You are scared of the moment when you realize your fear is there
Living with you, breathing with you
Yes, the moment you realize
That is what you truly fear
That is what I happen so to realize in that very moment
As I lay there floating
Floating in a world of white and black diamonds
Circling you, surrounding you
Suffocating you
Realization lies there waiting for your presence
It lies there stealthily
Biding time as it is
I soon find myself regaining simple cultures of the past that had been taught to me
Began to sit upright, folding my hands in my lap
Staring into the face of precisely what fear accommodates
The thing that has been established by many
But many have gone insane after addressing the true fact of the existence of fear
Though I am not here to tell you the sorrowful tales of such
I am not here to recite the journeys of others
And of those did not go insane at the thought of such revelations
Stand tall in front of it
But they cannot hide it forever
Until they cower back, seemingly shrinking in size
Because no one lives without fear
Therefore no one lives without realization
Therefore no one lives while glaring realization in the eye
Not because of ****** that they cease to live
Realization itself does not admit to killing these innocent beings
No, they **** themselves
They realize their dangerous feat and therefore cannot bear the realization
They have always been frightened of realization
But to realize that one is challenging it
Is the fate of the brave
‘Tis not why here I am
Telling you this tale of valor and possible stupidity
Alas, I’ve strayed off the point
Distracted in perils before us, any of us in fact
As I fixated my eyes on the perfect form of realization I seem to realize what others perished to
They also could have died by the next processes as your brain begins to comprehend
Questions that is
Many, many, many, oh so many questions
Popping into your noggin
Or perhaps your heart
l bet l could find them in your stomach
Everywhere and anywhere, not just your usual questions
But they were different
Very, very different
Not slightly different because l can’t tell if l have made this clear enough
But they are very different
Is this really real, or is it an optical illusion?
Am l living in a hallucination?
Could everything be a figment of my imagination?
Are people really there, or am l mentally ill?
Do I really see things, or could l be imagining them as if l am blind?
Is this really real, or is it an optical illusion?
Questions of the end of the world these are
Namely the last one
“Is this really real, or is it an optical illusion?”
Dec 4, 2025
Dec 4, 2025 at 9:18 PM UTC
On these pages: a story writ.
Not lines of love, near opposite.
With wicked words, bursting seams.
and pictures ripped from horror scenes.
This transcript: tallied tragedy
seemed clear, at first, of trickery
such that I said, with full belief:
“I simply bought a book,
simply bought a simple book
bought a simple book this early morn.”
Nary a choice did I resent
more than my steps up staircase bent.
Had I known what fate was in store,
I would’ve stopped short of the door
and listened to my heart’s retort
turn my back to oaken boards;
neglect to knock, proceed no more.
Alas, the wiser choice did seem
like foreign words I could not read
a weaker foe to curiosity.
Thus on the door, my knocks numbered three.
On portal’s edge, the wait did seem
a lifetime spent, eternity.
Heard racing heart, mistakening
its pounding pulse for echoed feet.
A lock’s release, my wait was for;
an unlatched, oaken, ornate door.
As portal opened to the store,
of echoed feet, I thought no more.
Creaking hinges, a'rust with age
made way for shopkeep's leathered face.
His cobwebbed volumes filled the space
and gave the air a smell and taste.
My steps were slow; I didn’t know
what book, which nook, my search was for.
So I walked the aisles, for a while.
‘Till a hidden book stood out
A hidden nook stood out
A hidden book’s nook stood out.
Into that nook, up to that book
my outstretched arms raised hands that shook.
But now I see that I was blind
to evil glint in shop-keep's eye,
and how my steps had crossed the line,
but like a fool who pays no mind,
I gripped book's spine, as chill gripped mine.
Alas, Where once I felt so free
that “simple” book imprisoned me!
Looking back, it's plain to see:
Text locked the door, and tossed the keys.
On portal’s edge, I sat a spell,
For front my eyes, world turned to hell.
Clocktower bells rang out death knells,
Mixed metaphor with sulphured smells.
A lock released, an op'ning door;
Followed by sounds I can't ignore
As I walked home amid the storm,
of echoed feet, I thought once more.
What harkened there, shadowed so?
It made no noise; I didn't know.
and so my steps fell soft as snow,
heard silence then, and nothing more.
Was it the shopkeep, hidden there?
In darkness deep, 'thought saw his glare
and so I turned, searching, scared.
Nought, I saw, in darkness there
Nought, eyes spied, no shadows spared.
Nought, my cry left my fear bared:
"I face you now, as friend or foe!
Why you hide yours, I do not know."
So still, the shadow stayed its frame..
As if it played a hidden game.
Its outline froze; it seemed so strange,
Besot', I sought the shadow’s name
but to my ears came only rain.
Alas, light passed, lit up the space
where I expected a strange face,
but to my shock, in revealed place
was only water, reflecting face
On puddle’s edge, I searched the grass,
only found water, still as glass
Just as I thought, "This fog won't pass,"
my clouded mind came clear at last.
A calming breeze cleared my mind's haze.
To self, I said, "If blindly brave...
I'll sell tomorrow to yesterday,
risk retrospect of future fate."
Thus I thought a tale would end,
The book, or life? I can't portend.
Post-curse, I'm worse for wear, my friend!
Now words alone don’t serve to mend.
I turned a page into the book,
and as before, my hands, they shook,
The leaves were blank! Was I mistook?
No words were writ, the pages, bare.
No words to read, no lines to share.
No words to see, then one appeared!
A balked belief, before my eyes
That ghost-writ word was leading lines!
and so I read, still scanning script
'scarce skipping stanzas, none I missed.
I turned more pages, teeth a’grit...
Falt’ring, failing to feel my fits.
I couldn’t stop; cease reading it
Alas, time passed, still keeping speed
words filled white pages, enrapt I read
How does this work? What’s it all mean?
Why was the cursive cursing me?
On pages’ end, the words did seem
a lifetime writ, for all to read
Right from the start, text taunted me
divined a doom, a destiny
Its pox perceived, print paper flat
I begged the book to take it back
"Who’s words were those? Who’s fate is that?
Who’s life and death, in white and black?"
Delving deeper desperately
For I felt my future had passed, you see
Living life so longingly
Fearing fated folly, unfortunately.
As I read the book, I took
My final form, ‘spite balance shook.
Lapse living lie; won’t die a crook!
I blinked, unlinked, to weaker chain
I shrinked, to think, of lesser gain
I winked, on brinks, but not insane
So now, my friend, I’ll pen some prose
Dream up new lines; make up new words
Where once I thought that what was writ’
The rise and fall, all of it
Could not be altered, not one bit.
As if in stone, the letters sit!
Lines laying law, commanding it!
But now I face what fate comes forth
Leaving letters forming words with worth
My written rhymes give gallant girth
They sing a ballad; but say one verse.
I put down past, but faced it first
In breaking down, I found what works
I fixed my fate, and shed the curse,
Better for me, but for you, much worse.
The book, this poem share a name.
I thought that fact would make it plain
These wicked words hid horrid hex
now you can’t flee, for you are next!
Dec 21, 2024
Dec 21, 2024 at 8:02 AM UTC
In the garden stir the flowers
That whisper through the trees
A subtle hint of fragrance fading on the breeze
Ripples over pebbles
Gentle rushing of the stream
Is the smile in cool reflection
That of you or Angeline?
In the binding choking clinging ****
Which stops the waters flow
Do you find her auburn tresses
And that face as white as snow
Does she walk beside you?
Like she did so long ago
It was you that drowned her
So only you would know!
Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 11:49 AM UTC
I couldn’t reciprocate what my heart has
been humming
— “I have been waiting for you my entire life”
For I am tired and at a discontent. Seeking solace
only from knowing that we are special and just apart,
But it catches on my throat like cotton,
And I know you’d be frightened.
As terrified as Poe to
when he trembles over the rapping,
rapping sound from the raven.
Murmuring: “darkness there and nothing more”
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 6:20 AM UTC
Watching the silver shine
From your eyes divine
We had it all seen
When we were seventeen
Those days are gone
In the days the stars shone
For I am lost in the night
Without your light
With love's debt paid
I've been there before
Throught the Raven words are said
It will be nevermore
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 4:38 AM UTC
From the dead ravens sorrow
Ran the poor mother
Just a small sparrow
No more together
The dead shall rise
And we will be once more
The difference in size
Will be no more
The mother cry’s
The raven caws
The sparrow dies
Locked in a crocs jaws
The mirror I stare in
Before me now
I bare my sin
Bare, upon my brow
I see a raven stand behind
Cloaked in darkness
I am no more
Jan 5, 2020
Jan 5, 2020 at 11:06 PM UTC
the
rain
of pain
fell down
again
i feel the same
out in the lane
sent from a place safe
to a place
unknown
unknown i am
to myself
who am i
where am i
i feel unknown and all alone
the raindrops have their friends,
not alone in their despair
i am but a lonely rainbow.
alone
but
glorious
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 10:10 PM UTC
“I have been trying to get laid
So should I try lacing up my suspenders and get my strap on,
for another fifty shades of drinking a Harlem shake to the
piece of cake fairy tale of nagging paper trail just to impress a **** pony tail
at the dark alley bakery, vending her own cookie with a tight shoulder skirt to this lions in search of an empire from a leverage point to cleavage, Torching the alley with a naked thigh just like tossing a coin into a fountain in a circus with clown with umbrella about throw some shade until when the tides go out to, you get to know who’s been swimming naked upon the pleasures that are bitter to swallow to this blood ******* roaches chasing strangers who would spread her legs to the canvas and induce seduction as a color scheme……..
She called me sadist and I called myself a dreamer,
She dreamt of pushing me off the bed and calling me a screamer
She envisioned cutting my throat and playing jazz with my vocal chords
She fantasied sarcastically caressing my cuticles just because last night I came in short of breath
Previously
She would sell her own soul to the syringe of morphine drip
for a denial shot that pain heals in the prefix of an outpatient rehab
now in the bathtub nursing in patient withdrawal ,
She would tie a shoe string around her bicep in search of vein,
so as to squeeze the **** libido version of limbo to oblivion
humiliating the dark clouds begging for a shooting star
to the pages that frustrates the pen unto the novel that prescribes a prenuptial of black bride killing the reader’s digest and buries their heads…………..so……………………
I am becoming a book.
that will induce an ****** with sympathy veil of beggar feeding on their own horses
to the end of the caterpillar misery is **** butterfly confetti to script that syncs the readers perception
Into the ****** abuses of the needle that impregnates the ink and tells the canvas to go get paternity test throughout the history of melting medusa lips
that made a homeless robin without a hood painting a revolution in this concrete jungle
where dreams are made up from silence thought that can
ambush a hive softy through whistling that melts
a bee’s temper in the presence of a queen is a poisonous sting of a artist
dipping his own brush into his own soul with a healing dew that never bruises
the honey in the vein of the garden is the beauty of the wine
From a vine to flower is a grape in the glass is anarchy
From what I am running from
To misery flowing from the river on
That’s why we are here
To profile the lost identity from the art of war that sun Tzu was afraid of losing his head to another thigh!
That’s why we are here
To profile the slit of the dress that curved the sword another napoleon to conquer Soviet Union
That’s why we are here
To profile a love Ballard from contortionist that melted medusa eyes from cold to flexible
Revolution will wear a mini skirt, squat and kiss the lepers hands for the Benjamin’s banking dump jokes...and still hire Johnnie Cochran for second ****** trial of O.J Simpson ……………
That’s why I still want …………………………….
our culture wore a fabric of circus clothes only dance in the arena like a puppet from the strings of the servants chasing a redemption in the den of thrones getting thrown to the game of throne for guilty pleasure as kings daughters were gambling upon gladiators death to the freedom of escaping their own Sobibor that chopped off my foot in the life of Kunta Kinte
Slavery was blushing teeth with a **** moan of a cigarette smoke
Flirting to the horrors of unshaved groins,
from the growing pains in the hands that planted olive trees
to labor and harvest their oil that has become tears of
cowards staining heaven with obscene imagery of their own likeness
holding their insights captive upon the eyes of the ******
Until our backs were a canvas of whips and brutality, we had tattoos
of pain and graffiti of blood as written the book blue skies
claiming the prepare the way the Lord, judging Esther from a supremacy attire of poverty
termed to be isolated from the world where the corner stone fell into the wrong hands and built a
Tower of babel for the Pharisee living in a glass house
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal to pleasure
the urges out of the Garden of Eden, Adam had to seek leaves to live with eve,
From a mustard seed renouncing the deception ought to praise the womb that gave birth to the blood sweat and tears to the system planting snares pig’s ears and fears ,
with intent to subdue the cat inside the bag from the smell of the rat that has been suffering a broken rib
We used ashes as lotion to conquer the scratching pains of the unhearing wounds eying the staff that turned into a serpent in exodus to the stiff neck of the system after the death of Moses….we had to succumb to victory,
There was a story of how soldiers got hungry
in the battlefield even they started feeding on themselves
Fighting for peace in the pieces of human meat...
upon pawns that have kept chasing the salvation of in the story that was
made by rats that fought all the dogs and killed the cats is like
Judging a fish with its own abilities to climb trees from the a shadow of small boy reflecting an elephant in the room with betrayal that made Julius have a seizure after gambling with another’s man
life with few pieces of silver sealed by a Judas kiss that killed Jesus,
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 2:27 AM UTC
there is a vastness here
where a small breeze,
the size of a decaying sorrow
wakes the cold again
which may be all that’s left of me.
where a diamond pale haze of stars goes on eternal
like sound that has found a final silent shape
on a black sky where it means everything
It cannot speak off.
it’s empty out here, and cold.
cold enough to reconcile
the frozen cries, the kidnapped voices
and the silences that move
with certain cadaveric contractions
along the frozen emptiness
and In the morning when I look out
the previous evening remains
in its blank, cold, unforgiveness
even though I sang for them in
the eternal extensiveness of
the freezing cold, the stones
still cry with mouths opened wide
while the small icy wind and unsympathetic
moon subdue the apricot flowers,
Now the piercing cold day Is no longer enough
For all comprehension escapes me
suddenly jumps with fury hurling terrible hostilities to the sky,
as wandering ice spirits without homeland
begin to groan with a vast and vacant voice.
And frozen hearses, with muffled drums
and tragic music, slowly pass in my being
conquered, weeping, freezing
this atrocious iced and despotic place
plants its black flag in my soul
Now I do confess through boreal breath
I don’t think I will ever see the
Red Tulips again
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 3:36 PM UTC
In the desperate times I hear it call my name
No, not again please spare me
The horrible, haunting horrors
Like a leech, draining me leaving me with despair
Who is he or she that calls my name
I dare not say, for it haunts me
Lurking in the depths of mind, oh how awful
I could live my life forever in glee,
but when the light fades I’d rather die
Oh God please have mercy, I beg and plead
It begins to attach to me
To my mind sinking to my heart spreading to my limbs
Im hopeless, how can i get rid of this burden
Antagonizing, the pain is physical you can see it in my eyes
Listen carefully making no mistake and you can hear it in my voice
The darkness leers leaving me with tears of sadness
I wouldn't dare wish for it on any innocent soul
For let it devour me after all I must deserve it
For it is a monster that I have created and it only seeks for me
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 12:30 PM UTC
I long to write
Beautiful things
Like Shakespeare
And elegant ballgowns
Something with more meaning
Then simply feeling down
I long to write
Of romeo and Juliet
Symbolic and deeper then most see
Oh thou arent very good with writing
I long to write
Like egar allen poe
Or any inspiration i claim to love
But instead i write of the dead things
That roam through my mind stirring
Pound pound pounding
My mind is constantly aching
She's but a young child
Cry cry crying
For attention she seeks but it keeps dying
Plays and music will not be wrote
Of the things i write
For they are not artistic
They are but a jumbled mess
Never knowing where to place
Each
Line or
Stanza
Now I'm rambling
On and on and on
She goes sad and chaotic
Whispering obscenities
And screaming repetitive words and pleas
I adore the poems and songs
That at face value seem
Like they are about love for another
When truly they ring about darkness
Oh sweet child
Your love keeps thy so warm
But it's breaking into a storm
I watch you try to sleep
Why do you weep?
Dost thou not realize thy beauty?
Stab thy heart into shreds
For i cannot breath without the
But i cannot smile when thy fills my blood with led
Sweet little girl
You have made no sense
Get on your knees and repent
For you will never be
Somebody
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
Lenore, not lost
but only sleeping
sainted, yes
and night comes reaping
radiant with demon's dreaming
tapping, tapping, like before.
Sure, the wind
has caught you from me
dances with you
rare Lenore.
Send this shadow
with it's rapping
send it
flying, from my door.
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me
Cried the bleeding man in his last breath
He voided his bowels
The rigor mortis kicking in
And thus began his journey of death
The funeral was closed casket
There wasn’t much left to show
A poem recited
The priest going on
“Darkness there and nothing more”
The years went by, the man’s legacy forgotten
And so did the memories that once seemed so sweet
That’s how it goes
In this dark twisted world
Please stay tuned for some more Sesame Street
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
I've never been great at poetry;
The process always fails for me.
While mister Poe and Shakespeare last,
My writing ends up in the trash.
Their writing style, lost with age,
Their wisdom hid in ev'ry page,
The glory given where it's due -
These are things I cannot do.
My writing's forced; theirs doth flow.
I say it blunt; they say it slow.
Those areas that bless and move
Are places where I can't improve.
So why, with my lack of skill,
Do I keep on writing still?
With such a hopeless case as this,
You'd think I would already quit!
There was a time when I did -
My desk was shut; my pen was hid.
Then something occurred to me
Which changed it all instantly.
If Dr. Seuss had Shakespeare tried,
And Mr. Poe glorified,
And given up in dismay,
We wouldn't have his books today.
So keep on writing how you do
With that style unique to you.
Put your mind into use
(You just might be another Seuss)!
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
I’ve loved your *** since the 11th grade. There were a few years when we went our separate ways, in due time we both knew we should of stayed.. Our lives were in ******* shambles.. Each passing day I would gamble, I’d hope, I’d pray.. Maybe I’ll see him this time, *** would I even say?? Hey love, I’ve missed you... Still remember the day when I first kissed you.
I remember 9/11 was a day of much conflict and disarray
But in Reseda, California, we put the egos, pride and ******** at bay..
Shared our dreams, we talked about life, what it’s like without each other and what it all means.. there’s a fine line between love and hate. there’s no madness without love. I don’t really believe in fate. When it comes to matters of the heart there ain’t much you can say
It’s ok, I wouldn’t have it any other way.. cause you’re my man crush everyday
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 12:39 PM UTC
Revolted fading decay
Did pursuade,
Like blood on the shore,
To write with the blackness of my heart
And with hope nevermore
The black ink blooms on paperback,
With the heart that spurts its veins
Accross the page
Growing into its darkness and pains
The white fading,
drimpel, dubbed unpailing
With the words posing as potent but poison
Possesed in perfect form of pretence...
The Words so falsly true...
The words bleeding out, "I love you"
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 5:56 AM UTC
Dead,
the day before yesterday.
Grieved by it, personally,
Reputation: few or no friends
Suggested art - lost its erratic stars
A dreamer! Dwelling in ideal realms
-the brain-
Madness
Melancholy
Indistinct curses with eyes upturned, already ******
Happiness wit hglances introverted, shrouded in gloom,
arms wildly beating spirits - sought to forget
close by,
those glimpses
open to the doom of death
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 9:10 PM UTC
two ladies
dressed to ****
give me a shiver
give me a thrill
they kiss each other
their mouths pink and bright
tender and cruel
a kiss then a bite
******* brush soft
vulva's get wet
hands ***** *******
drools like a pet
******* explode
spasms and creams
hands touching thighs
sizzling dreams
oh they love
all candy and ***
shadowed eyes
lips like ***
ones a slave
the other her queen
then they switch
kiss and scream
its hotter then hot
a burning **** sun
melting butter slits
a tempest of fun
doing the rumba
pretty dance feet
swaying hips
gawd its sweet
lovely behinds
moving in place
what i want always
is ***** mouth face*
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 4:39 PM UTC
In the darkest corner there
Hiding far and near
He hides from
And hide from me
Seeking his one and only Anabell Lee
For a love that's not known
Is secretly shown
He searches, he sees,
His beloved dear Anabell Lee.
He might be young
But youth means nothing to him
For tied is not is tongue
When says 'I love you' to Anabell Lee
The last words he speaks
The Last time he sees
His beloved Anabell Lee
For the time :
One.
Eight.
Four.
Nine.
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 2:41 PM UTC
Burning―a hot blaze
In the manner of fire.
Flickering in the form
Of ignited passion,
It dwindles in the
Morning sky.
I admire the beauty
From afar, for if I gazed
Straight ahead into the
Magnificent light,
My sight shall be
No more.
Wandering, my thoughts
Haunted me day
And night.
What if the light was
No more
And the world lived
In eternal darkness?
Who would be to save
Our beloved
Skies from going
Utterly blank?
There must be a savior;
Someone with power
And courage willing
To set fire to the
Sun to
Save our souls from
Flickering away
With the
Winds of time.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 7:40 AM UTC
There came a love of truest and fair,
In a town I came to know,
A girl my heart she did bear
With a love that filled my soul;
To her, I would give my life
Without a single doubt be told.
She sat gracefully upon a lonely bench
In this town I came to know,
I adored her more than life itself
As her beauty lit a-glow;
And her essence came from a heavenly place
As she laced her grace of snow.
Her beauty spreads across the skies,
In this town I came to know,
Spreading love about her goes,
To nurture my love and grow;
So that the abundance of my burning passion
Can murmur and run, just as the rivers flow;
And to an end my dream will come
In this town I’ve come to know.
Her raging light, blazing bright,
Lit my heart a-glow,
For its power completes the monarchy
In this town I came to know,
And binges across the galaxies, spreading love,
To and fro.
I call to her spirit beckoning songs,
For my love to her I must show,
And my passion I must show,
Before my dream is just a dream
And my soul sinks below;
She is the dream of love I dream
In this town I came to know.
She too knows of me and the love inside that grows,
In this town I’ve come to know,
The sun never settles caressing the red rose peddles,
In this town I’ve come to know,
The birds will chirp a sounding song of mirth,
To the heavens above till love gives birth
To a love packed passion as all men know
The love that was found
In the town I came to know.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC