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Take flight upon the wistful breeze
mourn not the loss of mortal shell
let go of all with quiet ease
for those who loved you loved you well.

Then we shall sing a prayer for thee
a light to guide in passing peace
that you may rest forever free
as morning brings your souls release.
For Guy. May he rest in peace.
The confessional May 2015
Loving you is futile
It bears no fruit to sate my hunger
or nectar to quench my thirst.
It bears only thorns to pierce skin once excited by your touch.
I am the disappeared
my name spoken no more
by the tongues of zealous lovers.
I will not weep as my eyes look upon my banished heart
nor will I revel in it's decay
I will only mourn that time in it's passing is not as brief as your passion for my smile.
I am broken
I am scars
I am silence
I am darkness
I am trouble.
I am *****
I am damaged
I am faults wrapped in eager flaws.
I am unrepentant
I am shamed
I am shattered
I am irreparable.

I am lost.

I am every child that was ever taken too soon from the breast of its mother.
I am every girl who's innocence was shredded by greedy hands and hungry mouths.
I am every pill I ever lined up and swallowed in the hope of sating the voice that begged for my passing.
I am every whiskey I ever chased into oblivion with another...and another ....and another.

I am all these things

and yet

I am hope
I am beauty
I am laughter
I am free.
I am honesty
I am belief
I am truth.
I am.
I am worthy...
I. am. worthy.
I am healing.
I am loved.
Finally.
He left with the passing time
no farewells offered
no heartfelt backward glance
his footfalls ticking seconds
echoing in the Sunday parlours of the righteous he despised

He left with the passing time
no one mourned,no tears were shed
His sacred, bleeding heart
now but a tattooed image
on the chests of the dejected

He left with the passing time
on whispers of myths
and suspected tall tales
doubting his own truth
despising the lie of his creation

He left with the passing time
while pious mice sang of his glory
behind the battlements of faith
as the wars of the wicked raged in his name

He left with the passing time
while mothers wailed at shaken babes
and the disappeared sang from **** choked graves

He left with the passing time
as society shunned his brand
and drunken feet  danced lasciviously on his moral high ground

He left, with the passing time...
My rather drunken write from last night, not sure if I'll edit it, remove it or bin it all together. Not sure I like it at all. Please leave feedback if you will, it would be greatly appreciated.
The confessional Jan 2015
Ticking clocks and photographs

have many tales to tell

distorted smiles and passing time

show that I loved you well.

The dreams we shared

lay broken now 

aflame upon the pyre

I snooped about

and found you out

you ***** ******* liar.
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