I will stay with you tonight
Keep you close 'til morning light
Dawn will come, don't close your eyes
We will watch the new day rise

I have stepped out onto the railroad station
I had found my train, after contemplation
Inside my heart, a feeling for two is stored
My only question: will you take me aboard?

Your eyes tell me a story
Your lips never will
There's a voice behind your words
That longs to speak
But you won't let me read your story
And I can't read your lips
You refrain your heart from speaking
Saying things to me
But all that comes out is flies and spiders

I use to let your care pass by
without a second glance
at the depths of your words.
You asked me how I'm doing,
genuinely and loving,
but I had convinced myself
no one truly cares.
It's just something you say,
I thought,
empathy is obsolete.
But you saw this in me,
I believe,
so you showed me
that you're not okay.
Then you told me
what you say.
And I'm still learning
how to say these words,
even as evil
continues to destroy.
"I choose joy."

You,
My counterpart,
My blood,
My muse,
I was born with you,
And I will fight by your side.
I will go with you,
And I will die for you.
You are the reason my heart burns,
You are the reason my stomach churns.
For what the world does to you.
You beautiful ocean,
And you don't even realize
The world dumps garbage
Into your great sea.
You are loved.
By me, and more importantly,
You are loved by God.
He wants a relationship with you.
Don't think so?
He made you,
And Christ died
So you could belong to Him.
And I hope to be His vessel,
Here to tell you just how much you are loved.
And you are my muse,
Here for a reason you do not yet know.

Come, Autumn, on September wings
     Come, the quixotic aura this season brings
Welcome, the golden harvest, and its plentiful reap
     Welcome, turning of the foliage, falling to paint
     golden streets
Transpire, crisp air, with your sway in timber tops
     Befall us, pumpkin skies, where the sun drops
Betide to me, the lull and composure from you,
     calmest breeze
     Make yourself known, won't you please?
Recieve gladly, the crackling of fire beneath a silver
     moon
     Embrace the little things, for they will go away
     soon
Welcome, fall, the enigmatic emotion as the season
     starts
     Welcome fall, with open hands and blithe hearts
Come, Autumn, with the romantic feelings you stir
     Come Autumn, I hope to be lost in the ambience
     that is her

I know hope is knocking at my door
He offers me help, of this I'm sure
So show me how to say goodbye
To all these crimson eyes
I will hold on to what I know
And this truth I know, I won't let go
I'll unlock the door and turn on a light
You have stayed with me, this dark night
I will hand over the key
You are my hope, and again I see

As I lay out on my front porch,
falling asleep to the melody of rain,
I can't help but imagine you here beside me

I use to let the eyes in the dark
Creep in my concious and part my heart
I would feed the stomach in my brain
Feasting on the thought that I'm insane
I'd lock myself in another room
As I would enter a state of gloom
I would write to rid a mind of wrong
Turns out the eyes would read along

You let your demons win quietly
You talk assured as if I don't see
You raise up white flags most of these days
I was born with you so won't you stay
The voices come to you in the dark
I feel them stay as your mind departs
Here to take all that you thought you knew
They blow smoke as if I'm not with you
I hope they choke cause we'll smoke them out
They will not cast you out or take you down
Because in Christ your meaning is found

I see a canvas behind your eyes
I see the artist in disguise
I see the portrait made so no one else will see
I see dimly lit sands and beyond a vast sea
I see your palette--black and grey
I see, as we all do, the bright paints you display
I see in your eyes your dripping color
I see that you don't trust a single other
I see, because the eyes interpret the heart
I see, and realize you are just like me
I see, and I long to remedy

You're an angel fallen down
Won't you tie me to the ground?
You're a blessing from above
Won't you stay with me, My Love?
You're falling far from the sky
Won't you tell me just how high?

Most mornings he wakes up before the sun,
to a time before the dawn has yet begun,
where he rows out to sea and throws his net,
for the moon, he doesn't sleep long,
in a world where the stars never set.

Pages in one hand and his heart in the other,
he projects words into the glistening moonlight,
poems he kept sheltered like a mother,
afraid to let her children out into the dark night,
hurling crazed words at the sway of the ocean.

He stayed up all this night fishing for the stars,
a slur to his words but the gist without falter,
unconscious this enmity and affection,
was adressed to his reflection,
his poems dead yet lively in the water.

I'm down in the dumps
In this trench I have made for myself
Why?
What is this thing?--this ambiguity?
Why is it here? Where'd it come from?
Why am I in it?
Is this real, or am I making it up?
What are these thoughts? Depression?
Is it coming back?
I don't know.
But the world doesn't care--
It still throws garbage onto me
I feel it pile up
And I can only ask,
Why am I not fighting it?

I once was a Heaver, just like you
Lost in a sea of solemn blue

My boat capsized at an early age
My mind was so detatched I barely remember this stage

Slowly I found my way back to shore
But I sometimes fear I'll end up like before

The night will haunt me still, with things I've overcome
The dark reminds me of what I can still become

So you see, I've had scars where a light is shone
And I've rowed in a sea that was not my own

I have found my breath and now I give it to you
A blot of yellow in your solemn blue

When everyone you think you know
Deserts your side, leaves your fight
I will stay with you, I will go
I'll be there, I'll stay the night
You're caught up in your darkest thoughts
Believe me, it's not just you
And you think your mind is all you got
Trust me, it's not your only way through
Stay with me, we are not alone
Our brains sick and our minds prone
It may not feel like it at times
'Cause there's many of you, but we are few
Yet there's an army of us at your side
We're fighting for our minds, our hope in view

i never really liked the color yellow
so protuberant
kinda theatrical
too blithe
but it just so happens to be your favorite
and that's exactly what i need

Remember the moment
You get a thought inside your head
A thought so clear you can hardly control it
So you go to write it down, but instead
No matter how tightly you try to hold it
You lose it, so you search in something you read

You have a life, come and see
Take this pen and do as you please
But in time, please remember me

I will stay awake this night
For the dark will not take me captive
I will not be a prisoner to the setting sun
I will be no part in the daylight's declination
For my demons have no plans for me
I will set my soul on fire
And they may come all they want
Again, I will take a stand to split up my mind
And decide what must die and where to fight

She told me goodnight, and I wished her sweet dreams
But I'm not going to sleep for some time
I will stay up with the addict I locked in a cage
And as I do, I promise you I'll keep safe as his words unwind
To benefit the world in some way, through pen and page

You may be conviced
You'll like it better when you're sleeping
But please hear this
Don't give to the blink
When I did, I found myself sinking
I fell asleep, internally bleeding
Don't start thinking
You may believe your sea is far too dark
But redemption is not that far
From the dark I turned to pleading, repeatedly
Asking desperately
"Come save me!"
And now I'm free

As we grow older
Something tells our hearts to grow colder
So that we will walk so much slower
I could feel my temperature drop
And I doubt it will ever stop
Hell is hot for a good reason
Because my soul is freezing
I will walk down the route for a season
Then I'm afriad I don't know what I'm thinking
Sinking deep, because I'm my own shrink
Can you tell I fall asleep when I give to the blink
Please don't think

I write some things,
          and it seems so worthless
I say something,
       and it feels so wordless
  Maybe that's the purpose
Memories formless,
              deep thought verses
       Thinking comes to surface
     Rhyming to    plead something
                     Writing but I
               say nothing    I have
   not forgot            You're all I   got
Just trying to                           all stop
                       make the doubts
            So be  fore    you
                              go        --
      ­               don't walk away
   Eventually I will  have
                            l       ines       to
         offer      y  o u     But  you
    must stay --  be here         for
           what I       ' m
   go                           ing           thr
              oughSta_y.  by   my
s   I. de             &
             give*     Me   ~ timeYou
         mustKn     ow  that
                   my brain
may be    _   sick   . .   .   but I'll
                              be okay  .

There's danger in the lines of these rhymes I make
Maybe I shouldn't tell you but it's kinda late
You should probably be concerned with my mental state
I fear I'm a product of this culture
Just another soul convinced it's over
A vulture, the poacher, taking fall to this world of overexposure
I feast on a past that's dead
Can't escape the thoughts in my head
I feel the pull begin as my faith will drain
I plummet on the thought that my mind's insane
My heart is with you somewhere but my head's not safe
The truth is all around my but my mind's not made

This for the little brothers
And the widowed mothers
To the Sunday morning snoozers
And the gamenight losers
To the wimps in the schoolyard
And even the bullies just down the boulevard
Shake the dust.

This is for the shopfront greeters,
The youth group worship leaders,
For the early morning joggers and the late night bike riders,
And for the boy who's crush loves someone else
For milk crate ball players,
And for the wallflower haters
Plant the forests.

To the sleepers and the dreamers,
And to the bed-wetters,
As well as the lonely love letters
To the broken hearts who write poems
And the broken souls that stole them
To men who work for a family they never see
And girls who want a lover but they'll never be
Split the seas.

For the heavens you have lived and the hells you felt you have gone through,
For the demons who have overcame and the ones yet to be overcome
For the ones who have stuck with the Lord all the same
And the ones who don't yet know His name
For the fair-weather friends the friends 'til the end
The overnighters and the stories told at campfires
Move the mountains.

This is to the poet, and lovers who don't yet know it
To the writers but it's just a hobby,
The Debbie Downers who can't stop me
This is for the authors whose books is left unread on dusty shelves
And the girls who hate the look of themselves
To the ones, that when it rains, they choose to sing
And the winter you must endure to reach the spring
Shake the dust.

This is to all of you,
and I will say it again: shake the dust.
Because from the dust you were made,
and to the dust you will return.
So let this poem not be mere words that barely flow,
may this poet not just be another kid,
too quixotic to change the world.
But might my poetry be the notes
which your words are carried by.
Let them swing and sway,
a piece to our battlecry,
some sylable in your life story.
Because from the dust you will rise,
so carry the dirt with you
and take the world by storm,
for the ground you scrape from your palms
is the story you form.

Maybe it's alright
That my mind's not fine
Because the God who holds the stars
Is holding me

Maybe it's okay
My fears and doubts
Because perhaps defeating these demons
Is the beginning of my meaning

So will you still help me?
Will you stay here?
You've come down, now stand by my trench
So when I reach out a hand
Can you take it, please?

Once again, I've found myself up against a wall
I know because I've done it all before
Play pretend, I hear voices linger down the hall
I don't feel like doing this anymore
Can you hear the voice inside me?
I don't want to call you when the sun sets
I won't show you all my pieces
I refuse to give you my troubles
I neglect to let loose all my demons
Can you hear what my tongue claims?
Do you feel what I'm trying to say?
It calls you by name
Asking you to stay

She wished

                                                  to speak

but



                                          "Sometime­s
                                                    it's hard to find the words.
                             words don't really describe how you feel,






     She tried              but couldn't.

     "I'm fine. Really, I am."

I wish I had known it then
The color in your cheeks
What's coursing through me red
A truth we both know well
We just don't know how to tell
The secret that we share
It teases with my head
It messes with our mouths
I'm in love with the hue

one

                                   night
        we


                           will



                                                        d­ance

                     again




                     under

                                                          ­          all


        the





                                     stars

The moon has his bad days,
and sometimes he must go away,
but look how much he shines,
even in the darkest of times.
He has scars too,
but look how bright
he is in the dusk's sunlight.
So you will shine and so you will persevere,
so you will burn like a countryside star.
You will rise again because our God is near,
even when He seems so far.

Sleepwalker.
                            You               beautiful
                                             sleep          er

             , concious but           not awake
                          screaming

              of
     ­                         another life.

      allowing                                yourself to be carried
                       by                blind fate

               replaced         by a parched, famished
      
         nature.
                                   death.
       a
               rootless                 man
         not
                            a living soul

this is your story
do not be ashamed
may this be the telling of your journey
let your hands open up like gates
and your fingers flow like streams
your plams, the palette on which you walk
the ground on which you scrape up paint
and you stroke your fingers
against the canvas your Creator has made
so may forests grow
and mountains be lifted
may oceans part
and the waters be stilled
by gentle kisses of reminiscence
and the introspection
of our heart's rythmic hum
all by the grace and power of God
because these poems are your story
so do not be ashamed
instead, may this be the telling of His glory

Dear parents,
Am I
               myself today?
I must          know
Because some days
     I can feel I am,

      But             today

                              I
                          ­        need

            You
                           to         hold
                  me
                           close,

       Because


                      I'm
        feel
                ­                     ing

                              slightly

             Unsteady

You, at some point, my dear friend, gave your sight to the bottom of the ocean
As you let the winds and the waves take you under
But still, even in your darkest night, the sea bed will not let you in
So you close your eyes, praying that you may still drift asunder
And embrace the darkness in which you swim

My friend,
I have not gone through the valleys of which you speak, and have not known the depths you are meaning,
But still I feel for you,
Because each of us is a human being,
And the pain you feel is nothing new.

So, friend, take you hands from over your eyes
for me. You may not want to hear my voice,
so I will pray for you silently, and offer
my presence. So will you take my
hand? Even if you choose to
leave instead, still: one
day you will stand,
and I will pray
until you
see the
light.

Oh,
                                    it's such a
                                                  pitty


      ­                                       to

                               release          a
                                              ­           thought


        and be          greeted with

                                                  silence.

I believe many people would say that nighttime is not their best time ~
because when the sun sets, our upsets and regrets progess;
our interests are shown from beneath the surface--
but from the surface, you won't learn this,
because my nonsense makes your contents look non-violent,
so we digress beneath the mess
by putting on a mask to disguise our lies.
But for me, I find it's the day ~
because by the time I reach midday,
my face hides and I put on a play
in hopes the night will fade away,
and then my mind will walk astray
in fear my thoughts will stay this way,
but then my surface will still decay.
And then I find the truth behind--
that you and I are not so different ~
because when the sun rises
it reveals what's common inside us,
but for some reason we hide this
and put on our disguises.
Honestly, it cures my insanity--
it pleases me, to find people like me ~
because, truth me told,
we are not so different, you and I ~
because by the time the day reaches noon,
we all know night will be here soon,
and another day will be haunted by night's nihility,
so to reach our comfortablity,
we hide behind a mask and please the lie--
the lie we find so common inside,
because we think it will keep us alive--
but the truth is ~ it's dead, alright?

Oh, you beautiful blue sea
Oh, you bountiful lush waters
Come into this and see
Come closer, away from the slaughters

Because in every waking moment,
                                                        w­e are all dying.
Within every sleepless day,
                                           we are losing ourselves,
bit by bit,
                                                            ­piece by piece.

How could I have known it then,
Your half & half
White lies?
How could I have known it then,
When all I saw
Was your latte skin,
Your mocha eyes,
Your life from afar, without a flaw?

There are several books inside my mind,
one of which is a turning tide.
There are many rooms inside my dreams,
one where I balance on ceiling beams.
There are a couple bookshelves in my head,
one that hangs merely by a thread.

I have instances in my reality,
where I hold my breath cowardly.
I have a voice inside me, disguised,
that says I am a mad man and lies.
I have moments that tear me down,
so I fall and drown.

I have a God who fights my battles,
but still my head spins and rattles.
I've developed a tendency to do my own doing,
and that's why my fears are moving.
They move through the night out of sight.
But in reality, my hope is never losing.