One tragic afternoon
As I recall
Traveling home
My body weary
And soul stricken with grief
I opened the door
As my eyes they did deceive me
I froze- and stared in disbelief.

In a series of bewilderment, yes,
My blood ran cold
And my body trembled with fear.
There she stood
With her piercing eyes
Much as a smile
That seemed only the dead could hear.

And with every reason  I tried to find
I found none,
And with every question I held in my brain,
One by one they shortly fell,
For why she was here only she could tell.
My heart felt ready to burst,
As my very thought was
She would drag my very soul, to Hell.

There she was
A look of all evil,
Her black clothes
Flowed with the every
Spoken thought of sin.
How poorly did she hide behind this mask
As I truly saw such evil within,
As she stepped closer
Her eyes caught mine
And met me at the door
With a grin.

Many years ago

And longer still

Was I sure I heard a shrill.


And how surreal 

Did this shrill appeal

What a thrill I found

Had I determined what was real.


And what utter horror 

Had my heart before me filled 

How I ask was I to feel? 


"Surely this must be a drill," 

Said I on paper by quill.

For this deafening shrill

Was too great for even words to spill. 


And had my own spine 

Before me chilled

At last with a will, had all seemed still.

Had I been ILL?

What I ask is surely real? 


The shadows 

Through the sepecular light 

Fill me with an utterance

Hiding behind the echo of a scream.

Or could it all have been just a dream..?

Fear is the father
Of all things imagined
Though never accomplished.
Our joy of life forbids us
To spread our wings
And soar into the unknown mystery
Of the land known as dreams.
The thing that separates
The dreamer from his dreams
Is the solemn fear of falling asleep.
Hesitantly through the nights own hours
He fears what has not been
But does not comprehend
What is yet to come.
Blessings to those
Who finds themselves at rest
Even in dreams, they long for
What the heart desires.

I don't know about Heaven, but I know there's got to be a hell.  I spent six years going through my own version of it. For there to be a Hell, there has
to be Heaven, somewhere. Was it for me, or for the righteous, the pure of Heart?
I didn't ask ask for this. What was I looking for,
Redemption? Or was it looking for me? I don't know about any of that, but I know the past
six years, I've never been so close to God than I have in my life. I couldn't help, but think
that this was somewhat punishment, and judgement for my sins. I look back now, and
realize, no one deserves what I went through.
All I wanted was change, in me was something lurking,
longing for acknowledgement. All I wanted was  to break free and escape from something
that I held the key to myself. To rid of the things that seemed to hold me back for years.
Come to think of it, I should have stayed.
The only piece of Heaven that I had left in this world, was
stolen from me many years ago. I don't know about Angels, but I know she is always with
me. I felt so alone. When she left me, she turned her back, and Heavens gates shut behind
her. Now she belonged to the stars. Too much to soon. From now on, I would always find
the time for her. A hollow promise. Too little too late.
The demons I have, are the constant reminders of my past
mistakes and failures of my life. I hold constant fear over the condition over my soul.
What classifys the condition of a mans soul? If you stab him, does he not bleed?
If you break his heart, is he himself not a man broken? If you hold him prisoner, long
enough, you will find, all it holds is his attention, and he will break free.

The ignorant secret to being silent, is when you come across someone who no longer desires to listen.