Dancing with my ghosts, on a midnight summer’s eve
A cacophony of determined footsteps
Mirrors the melody played
On the last night I spoke my piece

A candlelight vigil for time wasted
Buried is the boy, who once lived inside my waking dreams
Now bereaved, the man forgets all the boy has seen
Trapped inside of photo albums, in an attempt to resuscitate fading memories

life is what you make it so the saying goes
what is round the corner no one really knows
we cant see ahead to make our dreams come true
you just never know what life holds for you.

we just do our best live life day by day
learn to handle life what ever comes our way
try your very best in everything you do
then life will do the same do its best for you

make the best of life handle it with care
then the things you want  will be waiting there
it is up to you to do your very best
take it day by day life will do the rest.

if we have respect then we have our pride

happy and content with our self inside

have respect for life in every thing you do

life will do the same give respect to you.



have respect for others of each and every race

each and everywhere respect  it has its place

something we can give something we can share

show respect for others each and everywhere

Under the stars,
when the morning already arose.
Under darkness, a new light grows.
Exposing itself. In the dark there is a rose.

All on my own,
penning the thoughts of my dome.
Angels calling me home,
demons not leaving me alone.
Questioning my livelihood and sanity.
If people knew the me real,
a lot of them wouldn't be proud of me.

What a tragedy!

Crossing through borders,
waiting for what lurks on the other side.
You don't know what you might face,
till the new battles are what you find.

But I've placed all of my worth in that rose.
I hope it's brave enough to grow,
and cuts down the darkness with it's thorns.
In reference to the first stanza,
each line is on it's feet. They stand out!
In the dark, I realize I'm not a kid anymore.
But a rose at times. I must develop,
and fully grow. The old petals die out,
and the new ones will show.

Solo fears, I fear less of them,
feeling less on my own.
The moonlight beckons. She calls.
Open my sights to hope,
to those fears, I close the doors.

Midnight, she calls.

I suppose, I can no longer ignore.
I suppose, I must go.
I suppose, all things call for your soul.
I suppose, for me, the darkness I fear it no more.

Midnight, she calls.

So loud that everything seems to be low.
At the lowest point of my life, my soul tends to glow.

Midnight, she calls.

So loud that it echoes in tiny corners, till it breaks. It has a lot to show us.

Still Midnight, she calls.

In the solo moments I have to listen
out for wisdom.
Feeling in the dark corners of myself, to know what is missing.

The solo Midnight, she always calls. But I'm not solo anymore.

It’s the real you
It’s always there
With you
Before you were you
It knows you better than yourself
It sees the world for what it is
It sees beyond
It feels everything
It’s connected to all there is
It can guide you
It knows your true destiny
It talks to you all the time
You only have to listen