I used to own the board we shared, your knights,
I had my spies in your Bishops, and your confessions were mine.

I played my strategies so quick,
That I stole your heart without you even registering the thievery.

And as often as you breathed, as often as I laughed,
I would say; 'Checkmate'.

But somewhere along the line I got complacent
And you stabbed me in the back, simply by growing a spine.

I think I've been in recovery for half a year now
Because I've forgotten how to play.

Didn't you at least try to clear the cobwebs in my absence?
Because everything looks so sinister now, and I don't like it.

And everywhere, daisy-chain crowns lie rotten,
Like the wasted queendom of my youth.

But you,
You still proudly wear your crown of bloodied thorns.

And somehow, all my pawns have turned to dust,
And the board has dirtied its way to black.

Everywhere is open to you now,
What once was mine is yours, and yours alone.

And now, I've lost my footing.
By all rules I shouldn't be here

And everywhere I turn,

Checkmate.

My encounter, although mistakingly enlightening
Leaves me more baffled than before.
Do my words inherit the glow, similar to my daydreaming movements?
As if they were prematurely made, a banner across my silhouette.
Attached before the words can escape my mouth.

I wonder tonight about the necessity of freedom of speech
Curious to understand the rate of which our minds have developed, or been manipulated.
Is it our human defect of guilt the thing that encourages us to open our mouths?
Merely to humor our lowly human selves.

But I fumble
As words escape my lips, and enter your mind,they cannot be translated.
You cannot read my genuine emotion, as the life and purpose is ****** out as they are inscribed across your palm
So I write, and I materialize these things before they are evaporated.

Yes, I am confusing, and I apologize if I am further misunderstood
But, , my friend, I do love you
Purely, true and eternally
Yet I cannot give you what you desire.

Newton was both right and wrong
Love cannot be created nor destroyed
This energy flows continuously, passed from friend to friend
youthfully and innocently as friendship is meant to be

But, what he did not consider was the love of truth and purity
Which in the end is no energy, as they would have us believe
This love is an essence, similar to that formed the blood flowing through our family
Yet has something more

This love I speak honestly of,
Is unselfish
Is no medal of achievement
It bestows upon you the drive to be the highest you
It is the essence for the creation  of the one thing that they can never offer
True love, and true love of yourself.

Some days  yu know, mi just don't andastan
How a man can do di tings him do, an see himself a man.

Him seh  dat god give im good sense a will and a soul
to know right ting  fram wrang  ting, to know pit from pothole.

But im covet an steal an shed blood
like a beast. Then im walk inna church
and pray god give im peace.

Is a human condition  an a weakness a flesh
Is flaw in im naycha, a thorn in him breast.

But we human creecha, ought betta than best.
Ought draw a distinction from fish and from fowl.
Ought rise above avarice , greed and the rest.

But sometime I feel sure  that the writing on wall.
will  come to fruition and mankind will fall.

Is a small part of hu-man sunk deep in we core
what comes up and sprout wings and carry us shore.

Is that thing there, part spirit, part will, part divine.
What pull us  from struction then skitter, then soar.

Then beat wings in hubris  like Icarus lore.

Gone, my mistress of the long dark hair
And the ravens, still, as always remain
Silent, as the flight of the horned owl
Deep in the tangle of black mountains.

This heaviness in my chest is a grim room.
One cherished by a fool,
something that will never come to light.
It is a constantly dim room,
never lightening,
only strangled into night.
There is a lone rocking chair
in the room, cast out of yew.
My madness here is aplenty
and my silver thoughts a few.
My heart is made
of gray rotten walls
and deadly nightshade.
Maybe one day,
when a certain light
passes though the curtains,
I will walk out the door.