independent minds
and critical thinkers
led to the gallows
and burnt on stakes.

but without dissent,
valid or not,
there is no progress,
just stagnation.

life is too easy
and people complacent.
numbed by gimmicks
that steal our time.

a downward spiral
of mediocracy ensues.
all leading to a
tyranny of the few
and ****** revolutions
when their lies collapse.

walk alone
be free and dream
heart and mind
open

mama and papa
i long for your warm embrace
but you both passed on

~flickering~

like love. like time. like her.

little flame quivers and sighs
she glows a warm amber,
and her light is welcome;
it awakens plumes of dust,
casts shadows on the
walls and floors
where memories forever sleep.

the table is piled high with boxes bearing
clothes she had sewn and hemmed
for growing legs,
broken and mended china,
and boxes filled with
a volume of aged letters –
written in last year's bleeding ink
and sealed with a memory.

and her last syllables form words in mind:

~“we will all burn away,
but I will be with you until morning arrives,
on its withering arms of gold,
and I will be standing there,
rose in hand,

and I will give to you in death
what I could not in life.”~

blue shreds broken glass
cut deep red to find lost love
boundless black void spills