even the sweetest melody fades
after soothing a sobbing heart
into a slumber of silence
into a smile of dreams

am no holier than those before me,
nor those to come after
am a man with an eye
searching for a light in blindness
wisdom, in endless perversions of flesh,
and love beyond corners of graves
the blood of my soul,
that i use to cleanse my past,
of filthy hands and feet,
when the sun rose to cast my dark shadow

am no student of art
but paint with the strokes of my heart
at the beat of its drum
the blood on my arm
dripping from it's fist,
in a dance at a feast,

a bonfire, a hollow moon,
a reaper's scythe, a large spoon,
digging with my nails,
to blur my trails,
that when the sainthood comes,
to bleed my palms,

I stand justified
my ego satisfied
in a pouring rain
that eases my pain
when my soul rampaged in vengeance
and seeks not the house of repentance

and even though am convinced within,
that am right and tempted to believe,
that am wise and lured to judged,
I lean on the counsel of the old,
the Socratic words from Greece,
a Confucius text from China,
and heed the advise of the guardians,
from the stars and their shadows,
listening to beat of my heart

There is this thing I have heard of
I've tried it once but I think I wasn't careful enough with it
My mother warned me about it but I listened to this thing that was screaming at me, from my inside.
This thing didn't give the best advice
It drove me into a wall, or maybe that was me
I couldn't tell myself apart from this thing
This thing has made me so angry
I spat on the gentle flame that burned the thing into existence
A rage of fire erupted in my heart, or maybe it was the thing
Or maybe it was me
It confused me and killed off the joy that streamed through the blood of a former me
A former me; yes I remember. One that wasn't damaged. Pure, beautiful, innocent. The words that describe my very name.
But only one word describes the thing I know of.
**Love