Our heart, is offered up,
as a sacrifice to love,
like a ****** lamb
on its way to slaughter.

When love takes its leave,
for whatever reason fate may have,
it always steals a bit,
of that beating heart.

The pain of love departed,
is the price we pay,
for loving deeply,
and completely.

I chanced to hear you in my youth,
through songs and mystic fairytales,
with promises of happiness,
and perfect love that never fails.

When hints of love began to stir,
within this youthful heart of mine,
you cast your spell upon my soul,
and I like others fell in line.

But this heart became your plaything,
love rejecting yet again.
Never seeing I was but a fool,
when dealing with the world of men.

Now, filled with a host of cracks and scars,
I find this heart of mine has died,
and when I hear your tune begin,
I hold onto my heart and hide.

Oh, so bitter disenchanted love,
mocking me throughout the years,
I turn my back to you again,
and sit alone within my fears.

This silence, so loudly it weeps,
of thoughts, lonely and isolating,
that surround, engulfing me,
within my ancient past.

This silence, so loudly it whispers,
enveloping me so completely,
within its protection,
wrapping me in ethereal healing.

This silence, so loudly it speaks,
within the steps I walk,
upon this empty beach,
listening at last to its mystical message.

This silence, so loudly it sings,
with each passing wave ,
drumming gratefulness for the day,
and chanting above mankind.

This silence, so majestic it paints,
each sunrise and sunset,
yearning to surpass yesterday’s,
with stunning celestial hues.

This silence, so loudly it beats within,
as I make it my own,
quieting my soul,
I search beyond.

The child that you are,
living in an old man’s shell,
grabbing at glory,
while clinging to your tin crown.

Thumbing your nose,
at the good and noble,
you waste the voice given you,
as you sail into infamy.

Downy seed tops of milky white,
floating on the wind.

Memories of childhood,
blown away with a single breath.

The raggedy girl of childhood,
lived across a field of swaying grass.
Little tomboys finding ourselves,
running the summer down.

Days filled with splashing in creeks,
and catching bugs in our clasped hands.
Shinnying up trees in the heat,
drinking Kool-aid, our afternoon treat.

Wringing as much as we could,
from this time of innocence,
we struggled as children do,
to make sweet summer memories.

Outside my window, you howl through the pines,
like a dog moaning deep in the night.
Through the cracks in my window, you speak to me,
with a whistle of Arctic wind, squealing with delight.

White envelopes the landscape, blanketing all,
blinding those who venture into this wilderness.
Falling snowflakes encircle lumps of cars,
buried beneath this winter wonderland of ice.

The frosty wind slaps my face, with a stinging pain,
and like a robber creeping beneath my clothing,
you steal the warmth from inside.
Bracing against the wind, I head into the blizzard’s bite.