Dusk seeps and blurs the skyline
come the close of day
a pinky lilac ribbon
heralds night unto its stage.

The journey is a long one
clouds heavy, threaten rain
drops fall, refract a tiny world
and get wiped away again.

Yawning motorway before me
the lamps lick overhead
tarmac seams provide the beat
and keep my conscious fed.

Driving through the velvet hours
with widened, tearless eyes
I could be the last one left
under orange studded skies.

The rear view mirror silent
no followers in sight
the road ahead deserted
blank darkness left and right.

The headlights kiss a pilgrimage
from Dartford all the way
up into the Highlands
where ghosts of old clans play.

The cast of fading reason
blindness gives me bliss
mechanically motioned
riding the abyss

of barely wakeful notion
'cross the bones of England's spine
inverted patterns play upon
the windscreen all the time.

Punctuated by reflections
blue signs winking in the black
past Sheffield, Leeds and Darlington
where I'm never going back.

Driving through the darkness
steeped in rayless calm
rouged by dashboard luminesce
atramentously embalmed.

A window down to rouse me
night air beholds a trace
of perfumed secrets, blown on wings
that dance about my face.

'cross this scarred and sceptred landscape
it's said all roads lead to Rome
except the ones we love the most
that always take us home.

The snows of un-illumination
settle gently on my breast
aimed towards the mountains
running north, then turning west.

Though a social creature
I crave the company
of oneness in transition
just the road and me.

Humming, ceaseless through geography
with resonance my friend
dreaming while I'm wide awake
from beginning until end.

The shipping forecast soothes me
singing songs of gales
and this machine is just a ship
with tyres for its sails.

Out upon an ocean
of blacktop, good and firm,
through slow and haunted moments
with no need to turn.

One immeasured here to there
one simple action: drive
unknowing of the distance
only sure I will arrive.

And though dawn will surely seek me
for now I'm content to hide
among the blessed darkness
clasped by shadow deep inside.

I'm compelled to move forever
through ghosted, unlit time
the road ahead unhindered
the solitude sublime.

Let me tell you the tale of the man who walked away.
Where he is today, I really cannot say.
He was a very lucky man, yet he couldn't see
All his potential and who he was meant to be.
Lady Luck would visit - he'd turn his cheek the other way
Stuck in the past or present... he couldn't appreciate today.
He was loved by many, whom always extended a hand.
It was not due to pity, simply hope and love for this man.

One day he met Penny, a lovely beautiful soul
Who instantly went into the depths of what this man beholds.
She wanted him to see his light as easily as she
With experiences and conversations, she dreamed change would be.
Penny was preparing for a journey to spread love via song;
What a perfect thing for this man to tag along!
The man jumped in joy when she shared the idea with him
She thought to herself, Yipee! Let this incredible journey begin.

They climbed through the mountains, singing along the way
Moments of love, laughter, and joy happening every single day.
One day up the mountain, Penny spotted a dark cloud;
So quickly the mans mood turned and he began to scream out loud:
"This is awful! This journey can't go on! I refuse. I refuse. I REFUSE to sing another song!"
Penny stared at the man in shock and horror
she turned and said, "it is only a rain cloud, for sure it'll be gone tomorrow"
The man carried on making a scene; Penny found shelter and built a fire nonchalantly.
When the man grew tired from throwing his private show,
He stumbled into the cave and curled into a ball by the door.

The next day they rose, the man said nothing of the night before
When Penny made mention he shot a look that said his thoughts he would not pour.
Penny grew nervous, this was a side she had never known, but,
She knew the journey must go on;perhaps through that night .. He had grown.

Further on they journeyed into the open desert sun;
"No worries here" thought Penny... No clouds, no rain, just spread love and run.
The man asked for a cookie; Penny shared there were none.
The reaction made Penny thank god he didn't have a gun.
"What do you mean we don't have any!? How stupid could you be!?
To not know I would want one... Do you ever think of me!?"
The man began to sob, he fell to be floor and became a crying blob.
Penny was perplexed, she didn't know what to do.
"...it is only a sweet treat, why are you so blue!?"

This was enough to snap the man to his feet.
He wiped the tears, puffed out his chest...he wasn't ready for defeat.
"You know what Penny, you just don't understand.
You have no idea what it is like to be a traveling man.
No one gets me, and they never will.
Thanks for your time, I'm Also leaving you with the bill.
I know you have fed me, sheltered me too. You build a nice fire and kindly directed me on what to do.
But it is not enough, you don't get what I need.
So I'm gonna go...don't be like the last one and plead"

Penny stood blank with a punch to the heart.
She opened her mouth but didn't know where to start.
From the day she met him, all she did was love and help
And now here is this man screaming and crying a step away from a yelp
She watched him pack while being very emotional-
So many thoughts and feelings none of which could take their toll
He began to walk away from Penny, finally she found words to say
"Where are you going? It's just been a bad day!"
"You know what Penny, I don't care and to be honest, I never did.
From this point on, in your mind...write me off as dead".
With these words Penny could feel tears come to her eyes.
She couldn't understand this harsh and sudden goodbye.

The man continued walking, erasing his path along the way
He burnt all the bridges they had built together since that May.
Penny carried on singing songs of love;
The man continued walking; his soul never full, seeking more from up above.
You can ask her about the walking man,
She will share all the good about him that she can.
She doesn't know where he went, or what he went to see...
But she does hope his time was spent becoming who he is meant to be.

No one knows where the man who walks away is,
But we guess he is alone.
Since he walks away from those who help build a home.

A pessimist always
views the blot
in the flashy moon
but ignores its amazing beauty
even in the blot
always hunts up the dark clouds of
despair and sorrow
but lays aside
the smiling hope of ray
he considers the dark clouds
as epitomes of
annihilation and cataclysm
but defies the milky showers
of happiness and prosperity
in the dark clouds
he will never know that
happiness is only real when shared
and happiness is a journey
not a destination
and an optimist always
beholds the beauty of the moon
and in its beauty
meets supernatural visions of
righteous god
perceives that supernatural events
always have a logical explanation
and that almighty god
showers the blessings of
happiness and prosperity
exists with belief that
humanity was neither annihilated
nor could be destroyed
and always prays to supernatural power
for a prosperous society
blessed with harmonious relationship
among human beings
that are peace-loving

(By Kishan Negi)

Tonight we shared all our secrets
sheer in all their glory

Unlike a brushed-up story
where we characterize ourselves

Secrets as they were pure as life itself
right from our heart's preserved shelves

No edited version of truth as it was
no need to  glorify ourselves

Secrets as they were ; not to be ashamed of
a testimony of life lived to it's fullest

No story of our mind-confined selves
imprinted upon by a thousand impressions

Secrets of the spirit as God created
with all the elements he beholds in creation

No shame ; no guilt in feeling
the feelings bestowed by nature

Not a story of accomplishments
but secrets of realizations

Secrets that made us who we are
taking us a step closer to the creator

A night of acknowledging
and overcoming
who we thought we were supposed to be

stepping into who we are..
sacred, precious and holy
a speck in the galaxy
yet a complete universe in our being

our own God
that's who we are...

Misunderstanding is everywhere I look
My entire life is starting to feel like a book
Not a book that has just begun
But a book that is well overdone
I ponder what holds for me in the next chapter
Certainly not a happily ever after
Oh, but look there's a twist
Something so easily missed
For my life is not a book
It is a sharp ***** hook
A hook plunged deep in my soul
Reeling me out for what life beholds
I am not ready to be on my own
I do not trust myself to be all alone
And what happens when you run out of line for your hook
It's the end of your story, the end of your book

Is it left or right
Where the coin should fall
To open the door
That I wish was closed
And perhaps it is only
An eye that beholds
The image of fear
That composed  the walls
Of the tallest castle
That I draped in burgundy
And a sent of shame
Or perhaps it is only
A reflection of the worst angle
And I would rather blame it on...
The mirror is broken
It’s foggy and cold and it
Does not know of
Desire to stay away
Covered in goosebumps and scars
Perhaps I need your truth
Like the  empathy of
Monsters under my bed
Life is a dangerous swamp
That pretends to be a swan lake
Clear under the ice

The sea is mighty, but a mightier sways
His restless billows. Thou, whose hands have scooped
His boundless gulfs and built his shore, thy breath,
That moved in the beginning o'er his face,
Moves o'er it evermore. The obedient waves
To its strong motion roll, and rise and fall.
Still from that realm of rain thy cloud goes up,
As at the first, to water the great earth,
And keep her valleys green. A hundred realms
Watch its broad shadow warping on the wind,
And in the dropping shower, with gladness hear
Thy promise of the harvest. I look forth
Over the boundless blue, where joyously
The bright crests of innumerable waves
Glance to the sun at once, as when the hands
Of a great multitude are upward flung
In acclamation. I behold the ships
Gliding from cape to cape, from isle to isle,
Or stemming toward far lands, or hastening home
From the old world. It is thy friendly breeze
That bears them, with the riches of the land,
And treasure of dear lives, till, in the port,
The shouting ****** climbs and furls the sail.

  But who shall bide thy tempest, who shall face
The blast that wakes the fury of the sea?
Oh God! thy justice makes the world turn pale,
When on the armed fleet, that royally
Bears down the surges, carrying war, to smite
Some city, or invade some thoughtless realm,
Descends the fierce tornado. The vast hulks
Are whirled like chaff upon the waves; the sails
Fly, rent like webs of gossamer; the masts
Are snapped asunder; downward from the decks,
Downward are slung, into the fathomless gulf,
Their cruel engines; and their hosts, arrayed
In trappings of the battle-field, are whelmed
By whirlpools, or dashed dead upon the rocks.
Then stand the nations still with awe, and pause,
A moment, from the ****** work of war.

  These restless surges eat away the shores
Of earth's old continents; the fertile plain
Welters in shallows, headlands crumble down,
And the tide drifts the sea-sand in the streets
Of the drowned city. Thou, meanwhile, afar
In the green chambers of the middle sea,
Where broadest spread the waters and the line
Sinks deepest, while no eye beholds thy work,
Creator! thou dost teach the coral worm
To lay his mighty reefs. From age to age,
He builds beneath the waters, till, at last,
His bulwarks overtop the brine, and check
The long wave rolling from the southern pole
To break upon Japan. Thou bid'st the fires,
That smoulder under ocean, heave on high
The new-made mountains, and uplift their peaks,
A place of refuge for the storm-driven bird.
The birds and wafting billows plant the rifts
With herb and tree; sweet fountains gush; sweet airs
Ripple the living lakes that, fringed with flowers,
Are gathered in the hollows. Thou dost look
On thy creation and pronounce it good.
Its valleys, glorious with their summer green,
Praise thee in silent beauty, and its woods,
Swept by the murmuring winds of ocean, join
The murmuring shores in a perpetual hymn.

TIS past ! The sultry tyrant of the south
Has spent his short-liv'd rage ; more grateful hours
Move silent on; the skies no more repel
The dazzled sight, but with mild maiden beams
Of temper'd light, invite the cherish'd eye
To wander o'er their sphere ; where hung aloft
DIAN's bright crescent, like a silver bow
New strung in heaven, lifts high its beamy horns

Impatient for the night, and seems to push
Her brother down the sky. Fair VENUS shines
Even in the eye of day ; with sweetest beam
Propitious shines, and shakes a trembling flood
Of soften'd radiance from her dewy locks.
The shadows spread apace ; while meeken'd Eve
Her cheek yet warm with blushes, slow retires
Thro' the Hesperian gardens of the west,
And shuts the gates of day. 'Tis now the hour
When Contemplation, from her sunless haunts,
The cool damp grotto, or the lonely depth
Of unpierc'd woods, where wrapt in solid shade
She mused away the gaudy hours of noon,
And fed on thoughts unripen'd by the sun,
Moves forward ; and with radiant finger points
To yon blue concave swell'd by breath divine,
Where, one by one, the living eyes of heaven
Awake, quick kindling o'er the face of ether

One boundless blaze ; ten thousand trembling fires,
And dancing lustres, where th' unsteady eye
Restless, and dazzled wanders unconfin'd
O'er all this field of glories : spacious field !
And worthy of the master : he, whose hand
With hieroglyphics older than the Nile,
Inscrib'd the mystic tablet; hung on high
To public gaze, and said, adore, O man !
The finger of thy GOD. From what pure wells
Of milky light, what soft o'erflowing urn,
Are all these lamps so fill'd ? these friendly lamps,
For ever streaming o'er the azure deep
To point our path, and light us to our home.
How soft they slide along their lucid spheres !
And silent as the foot of time, fulfil
Their destin'd courses : Nature's self is hush'd,
And, but a scatter'd leaf, which rustles thro'
The thick-wove foliage, not a sound is heard

To break the midnight air ; tho' the rais'd ear,
Intensely listening, drinks in every breath.
How deep the silence, yet how loud the praise !
But are they silent all ? or is there not
A tongue in every star that talks with man,
And wooes him to be wise ; nor wooes in vain :
This dead of midnight is the noon of thought,
And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.
At this still hour the self-collected soul
Turns inward, and beholds a stranger there
Of high descent, and more than mortal rank ;
An embryo GOD ; a spark of fire divine,
Which must burn on for ages, when the sun,
(Fair transitory creature of a day !)
Has clos'd his golden eye, and wrapt in shades
Forgets his wonted journey thro' the east.

Ye citadels of light, and seats of GODS !
Perhaps my future home, from whence the soul

Revolving periods past, may oft look back
With recollected tenderness, on all
The various busy scenes she left below,
Its deep laid projects and its strange events,
As on some fond and doating tale that sooth'd
Her infant hours ; O be it lawful now
To tread the hallow'd circles of your courts,
And with mute wonder and delighted awe
Approach your burning confines. Seiz'd in thought
On fancy's wild and roving wing I sail,
From the green borders of the peopled earth,
And the pale moon, her duteous fair attendant;
From solitary Mars ; from the vast orb
Of Jupiter, whose huge gigantic bulk
Dances in ether like the lightest leaf;
To the dim verge, the suburbs of the system,
Where chearless Saturn 'midst her watry moons
Girt with a lucid zone, majestic sits

In gloomy grandeur ; like an exil'd queen
Amongst her weeping handmaids: fearless thence
I launch into the trackless deeps of space,
Where, burning round, ten thousand suns appear,
Of elder beam ; which ask no leave to shine
Of our terrestrial star, nor borrow light
From the proud regent of our scanty day ;
Sons of the morning, first born of creation,
And only less than him who marks their track,
And guides their fiery wheels. Here must I stop,
Or is there aught beyond ? What hand unseen
Impels me onward thro' the glowing orbs
Of inhabitable nature ; far remote,
To the dread confines of eternal night,
To solitudes of vast unpeopled space,
The desarts of creation, wide and wild ;
Where embryo systems and unkindled suns
Sleep in the womb of chaos; fancy droops,

And thought astonish'd stops her bold career.
But oh thou mighty mind ! whose powerful word
Said, thus let all things be, and thus they were,
Where shall I seek thy presence ? how unblam'd
Invoke thy dread perfection ?
Have the broad eye-lids of the morn beheld thee ?
Or does the beamy shoulder of Orion
Support thy throne ? O look with pity down
On erring guilty man ; not in thy names
Of terrour clad ; not with those thunders arm'd
That conscious Sinai felt, when fear appall'd
The scatter'd tribes; thou hast a gentler voice,
That whispers comfort to the swelling heart,
Abash'd, yet longing to behold her Maker.

But now my soul unus'd tostretch her powers
In flight so daring, drops her weary wing,
And seeks again the known accustom'd spot,

Drest up with sun, and shade, and lawns, and streams,
A mansion fair and spacious for its guest,
And full replete with wonders. Let me here
Content and grateful, wait th' appointed time
And ripen for the skies: the hour will come
When all these splendours bursting on my sight
Shall stand unveil'd, and to my ravished sense
Unlock the glories of the world unknown.

Stars shining at my crying canvas
As I stare at the endless epitome
of imagination… I wonder.
What discoveries it beholds me?
What should I do with it?
Who do I trust, and do I trust myself?
Crying Canvas, a Face, showing the world mystery.
As I look at this life…
Who do I allow, who do I let go…
Crying Canvas, a face that cries at night.

Beauty’s in the eye
Of the person who beholds
And value’s in the mind
Of the person craving gold

Or a puppy, or a painting
Or a Bitcoin, or a tree
Value’s NOT intrinsic
Value comes from you and me

A thing has value only
When desired by me or you
And people value differently
Just look - you’ll see it’s true

That value comes from valuing
And not “intrinsic” worth
And values vary widely
Across people of our earth

Bitcoin’s proven valuable
To people the world around
Maybe you should get some
As it’s quickly gaining ground

The value keeps increasing
As adoption grows demand
But supply is known and stable
It grows scarce in every land

In my little world I hear the birds serenade my soul

I hear the wind whispering through the trees

I see the sparkles of the morning dew making diamonds in the grass

I smell the freshness of the rain falling down around me

I see the butterflies dancing in delight across this earth

I see the wisdom in the great owl teaching me silence

I see the great eagle who teaches me to soar and spread my wings

I feel the sun bringing me warmth and illumination

I see the moon and feel the great mystery he beholds

I see the vastness of my life when gazing upon the stars

Most of all I see God and love in all I see and will be

And that is why I truly love just being me

They say that when you grow up,
The world will be in your hands.
Yet, small phalanges cannot affect such diversity,
Correct?


The thought is comforting,
However, disagreement tugs me.
This simple body part
Functions in ways that could
Destroy or ****.

Fingers dance upon
Passionate melodies
Or provide
Soothing caresses
Assuring you that you are in peace.


But some are stained crimson
With marks of sin.

Callused, rough, and
Ignorant about a
Tender touch.


Nimble and agile, they create
Illusions the human eye
Cannot follow,
Letting them have freedom to
Manipulate and control
Weak minds.

Yet they also spring delight in
Children's eyes.
Their imagination beholds
Tales of magic and fairytales with each
Flick of the wrist.

When you're in a void,
Consumed by your thoughts, just
Weeping,
Regretting,
Loathing,
Aching,
Doesn't a spark light a
Fire of desperate hope
For a savior to pull you out?

Unpredictable movements of doing the
Wrong things for the right reasons,
Or vice-versa,
Who can you really trust?

Unpredictable movements of doing the
Wrong things for the right reasons,
Or vice-versa,
Who can you really trust?

Human hands hold frail things with
Care or recklessness.

Human hands  share
Fear or love.

Human hands display
Favor or hatred.

Take my two cents and tread carefully.
The globe is but fragile glass

*Entrusted in your hands.

At the cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.
Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearing,
Now at length the sword had pass'd.

Oh, how sad and sore distress'd
Was that Mother highly blest
Of the sole-begotten One!
Christ above in torment hangs;
She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying glorious Son.

Is there one who would not weep,
Whelm'd in miseries so deep
Christ's dear Mother to behold?
Can the human heart refrain
From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother's pain untold?

Bruis'd, derided, curs'd, defil'd,
She beheld her tender child
All with ****** scourges rent.
For the sins of His own nation,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
Till His spirit forth He sent.

O thou Mother! fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above;
Make my heart with thine accord.
Make me feel as thou hast felt;
Make my soul to glow and melt
With the love of Christ our Lord.

Holy Mother! pierce me through;
In my heart each wound renew
Of my Saviour crucified.
Let me share with thee His pain,
Who for all my sins was slain,
Who for me in torments died.

Let me mingle tears with thee,
Mourning Him who mourn'd for me,
All the days that I may live.
By the cross with thee to stay,
There with thee to weep and pray,
Is all I ask of thee to give.

****** of all virgins best,
Listen to my fond request
Let me share thy grief divine.
Let me, to my latest breath,
In my body bear the death
Of that dying Son of thine.

Wounded with His every wound,
Steep my soul till it hath swoon'd
In His very blood away.
Be to me, O ******, nigh,
Lest in flames I burn and die,
In His awful Judgment day.

Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
Be Thy Mother my defence,
Be Thy cross my victory.
While my body here decays,
May my soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee.

Humanities premise
Is a births promise
So  
When passions ache
Our dreams awake
And  
As youth unfolds
Our love beholds
So
As hearts break  
Our fears awake
And
Our age degrades  
As beauty fades
So  
As the time flies
Our life dies
And
The spirit lives
As God forgives
So
The new dawn  
And we live on
BOEMS BY JA 584

In a broad kindred of spirits collide,
Too each is each to own and then we reply.

For where art thou darker days? Tucked behind us, spread like paste. Beneath a new chapter is where it lays.

A folding eyelid above beholds.
Temperatures swell, tempation creeps, weather is cold.

Are we not our own or do we just do as we are told? Again into the fold, clouds gather ahead, I clinch tight to my soul.

It's just that Im really not a good person. But I keep following this glow. Into the dark again I go.

A strange connection between what you consider real or make belief.
A thin rope dangles above from the fall that balanced and centered me.

For all that I appreciate and sense to be. For life finally making sense to me. Im circled by Death, teaching me something I have yet to be.

Echo knows eternity. A perfect gift from me to you from the lights of which you were meant to be. You are to your ability, able to be. Deep within your reach is where your meant to be...

Float seeds in the wind strewn about haphazardly;
indifferent winds ask not direction to course

Change asks not permission to become ―
like a blind-folded pilot looking for a place to land

At least dandelion wishes shoulder the weight of hope
and it makes no difference to the wind whose dream
it holds or seed it bears to  randomly cast away

The color of a mustard seed of faith
that moves mountains remains unknown ―
Freedom is as weightless as a hole in empty pocket
with nothing left to lose

Who decides who's a **** and what's a flower;
such definitive power beholds responsibility—
the most visible kind of strength,
that, used to oppress others,
is itself born of weakness.

On this island earth, in an ocean of emptiness,
a grain of sand and seaweed are washed ashore,
alone together, by the strength of a tuning tide

Float seeds in the wind strewn about haphazardly;
spindrift flying on the wing of tide-change
as indifferent gales ask not direction to scatter

Terrestrial seeds lay unheeded hole up in impalpable silence,
embryos of yesterday dwelling in infrequent sighs
that enter lightly those unreckoned songs
the breathings of the heart fail to sing


              words in the wind

1730

“Lethe” in my flower,
Of which they who drink
In the fadeless orchards
Hear the bobolink!

Merely flake or petal
As the Eye beholds
Jupiter! my father!
I perceive the rose!

Oh Gygax,
If you could see what you've made,
What it's become,
To those you've touched,
With simple dice, paper, and pen,
You'd see a community you've helped,
A people inspired,
Of joys you bring everyday.

You introduce to some a world of creativeness,
Of fantasy and dragon slaying,
To others you've helped provide a creative outlet,
Something they thought they'd never have again.

You've helped people make friends,
Some lifelong,
Connecting them in various ways,
But through it all,
It will have all started,
With a 20 sided dice,
And a simple question;
"Would you like to play?"

You've helped some through some rather dark and rough patches,
A form of escapism that can't compare,
To others you've provided a fun weekly activity,
To decompress from the toils of the day-to-day.

From the starry eyes of our most youthful,
To the slightly hazy eyes of old,
Entertainment you've brought to us,
From your average joes,
To famous folk,
The touch of your creation enraptures all that it beholds.

My friends and I gather again,
On this Friday night,
To fight zombie hoards, Kobold warlords,
Even a Black pudding or two,
And for a little while,
In those fleeting instants,
They're great hero's of Valara and Altour.

So thank you Gygax,
for all you've done,
as we sit down at this table,
from the noble adventuring group known as the Assless Chaps,
(Exasperated Sigh)
And their beleaguered Dungeon Master.

The beast terrible
the beast great.
Its claws like swords
it's mind bent on hate.

It's teeth like daggers
and its eyes glazed,
its strength incredible
and its heart ablaze.

Fear ye traveler
of this fearsome beast.
Fear ye wanderer
lest ye become its next feast

It's treachery brilliant
it's deception resilient,
it's lust for blood
far greater than a mighty flood.

The fear it brings
stretches far across the vast seas.
The horror it beholds
brings the faithful
too their praying knees.

It cannot be caught
this fearsome beast
It cannot die
and never sleeps.


It's always moving
always searching
always hunting
ever lurking.

It smells fear
from miles away.
It brings death to all,
and many each day.

So tread ye careful
wanderer,
step lightly
and be on guard.

Walk briskly
through the darkened forests
ever be wary
of this fearsome
unbreakable beast.

I love you,
that should say enough but it does not,
for none will love you as I do,
from now till eternity,
for I was forever enslaved from first sight,
and shall be in the fiery depths of hell,
or the streams of heaven,
for you are to me to broken for anyone else to help,
for your tears cause me more pain than words can do justice,
for my love for you cannot be contained in all forms of expression,
from paint to prose,
music to movies,
none may stop this flood for it is beyond me,
it comes from the divine,
it just seems destiny,
for me to love you,
for a moment I see thou in tears,
it  makes me bleed,
your father is of no solace to you,
for he is to great a fool to see the gem he beholds,
but you love him,
so I shall shine a light onto you so he may see,
for my love for you is to truly one I would die for,
the window is but a few steps away,
and if mine death makes you smile so it shall be,
if compassion is what you seek it shall be,
your wish is my command,
you to me are to great to be with one as lowly as I,
you are beyond any I can ever behold,
for this love cannot be seen in any a word said or written,
it to me is the string that keeps me alive,
if you wish to put me on a leash so you may smile so it shall be,
for your smile is worth more than any sum, answer or desire;
it is the only thing I know to be worth the concept never ending,
these words are not mine but that of a man I do not know,
for I am still but a boy and you a woman of great prowess,
I am but stuck upon you,
your image is which that keeps breath in mine lungs,
to help you is to have solved all mine worries,
please be mine for but a day,
or if  that is to much give me one chance to prove my worth,
for my fear of not being with you is greater than that of all that man fears,
for a lion is what I shall wrestle,
or do any a thing to prove my love,
for you are marked by burning iron upon my heart,
you pervade my every thought
the reason I breathe,
for you are beyond any a woman I could ever know,
for even if god had not destined this I believe that mine love for you would still be the great flood from which Noah escaped,
my thoughts are clouded by nothing but you,
for even in prayer my thoughts turn to you,
from dawn till dusk when I do not consume a drop of sustenance,
the thought of you is what allows it to pass,
there are not enough words to describe how pulchritudinous thou is,
the words for beauty do not do you justice,
no word ever does. no word ever could,
I was a fool to think I should,
a fool to think I could,
the thought of you places a weight upon my chest,
you.
are the owner of mine soul before god takes it away,
you to me are great,
the only great,
in any and every way,
I cannot contain myself from you so god must,
to contain this is but sickening now,
so I must solve such a thing ,
I must have your love as you must your fathers,
if not more,
I know I do not deserve,
I never could,
I wish you to be mine,
for my love shall endure,
and I may even endure your marriage but never having you is eternal torture,
for I do not wish to be chained forever,
but I fear I will be,
without love,
it is a sickness and I now know why,
they said you will know when you love,
I think I now know,
if this is not  what love is I fear I shall never know,
if I cannot have you there is no reason to live for not even heaven can be as great as the angel you are,
You deserve to be happy,
and I cannot but help you in that endeavor,
I cannot help but be sick with love for you;
I wish it would fade,
and I wonder. will it?

Or shall it be that my curse shall stalk me from right to left,
east to west,
I will try my best;
to be free
I hope it is enough but it may not let me see,
for my love for you blinds me.
as much as it binds me,
it veils my soul,
making itself believe if it had paid the toll.

You may have been kinder if you were crueler,
but you were neither cruel or kind,
only, a; torturous girl
just like every other I have known,
for you do not yet see the truth,
even when it is so close you may feel its breath,
the truth but hurts,
as it  has but been slowly cooking me as if it were a fire.
It seems my destiny is to be burnt alive with the truth,
that will be mine end.

But I hope it is not,
for in this despairing time, there is only hope,
hope that these hard times will end,
for people care if only we look,
there are kind people on this pale blue dot as well as cruel,
it seems I may have finally found content after that last cruel twist of fate,
a twist for the better I hope,
but right I hope I am,
for whenever I hope, it seems to be wrong,
even still I hope,
but how hopeless is such,
hope that shall never refueled,
it is but the draught throat of a dying man.

It seems hope is but a small star in the blanket of the despairing sky,
and even then it may not shine,
dulled by the moon,
it is as hope is dulled by others joy,
so it wanders the night sky,
trying to find solitude so they may grow and become joy one day,
but to rare it is,
that such a thing may happen.

You had such a chance to do such a thing,
but alas I shall never reach the joy of the moon,
for you have but dimmed my star to but a dim gloomy dot,
that seems to be fading in and out of existence.