"constrain" poems
When people ask if you're weird, or tell you,
or want to believe themselves strange,
eclectic, or odd.
It's vaguely disgusting to me,
cringeworthy in a mild degree.
We think we're so different,
but we are not.
The individualism of people
should be and is comparable
to the individualism of ants.
Who looks at the anthill and
sees something in particular,
something behaving specifically
"uniquely"
from every ant and every anthill?
Why do you believe in yourself?
I see this, as a conversation about
depression, and your partner
does not respect you
but instead wants to
tell you how they feel worse,
or have it worse, or "understand" more
about the affirmation or situation.
A person looking for individuality
through a lens of misery, anguish, and sadness,
is truly alone in their minds, and missing the
reality that these depressions exist without them.
The statement, "you are not alone" is an attack,
or an offense to these people, because it says
"you are not as unique as you think",
it strips them of their identity and individuality.
This is true of many ideologies and affirmations.
I quit individuality, this constricting sense
of holding everything of yourself in center,
to be a drop in the whole, something fluid.
If you split your affirmations from yourself,
you'd see we're all the same;
Affirmations are just currents in the ocean.
I look at myself; and people see a man,
a radical feminist, and sometimes a musician.
As labels, these each have their own presupposed notions,
[especially, "man" or "male" in the patriarchal gaze]
which hardly, if ever, are true,
but as affirmations, when I consent to using them,
these are no longer stereotypes that constrain me,
but similarities that I realize
I can embrace or shut out in others.
Affirmations do not make me more unique,
but similar to more people.
If I remove these affirmations to try and get to my "true" center,
my purest form of self, I see I am without meaning.
This is why I quit Individuality.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
Those that are complacently designed
By the simpering vanities
of a domesticated world
rarely find the peace of mind
of which we all strive
because their materialistic
beliefs constrain them
in pools of normality
Drowning them in the pressures of society
and hanging them out to dry
in downloaded photos
that never fade
our lives are all dictated
by the subconscious influence
of one another
thus our souls
are irrefutably intertwined
locked together in endless struggle
mind against mind.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
The insane live forever,
lust lawlessly over all things conceived fascinating
to the validity and gluttony of the mind.
Brain feasters we live to strive,
exist to be,
all things so mundane to our gluttony,
we hunger for something on border lines,
the limits of human mumbling over morality.
Cease your everest squirming,
your infantile homage bearing,
you find so viscous an evil,
so vile a fiend in us the broken chains.
Godless we sing the marching banter of forlorn free will,
we have no conscience to bear,
no after thought found alive anywhere.
The psychopath lurches out about child like smiles,
lives a second agenda basis before any infant experiments sin upon innocence.
Born divine this mutant knows free will without restriction,
closer to a limitless ever enveloping power than any mortal.
Breed me a man slewing monster,
a shape shifting skeleton reaper,
those that fear this untouchable being,
this godless singularity,
fear the very will we wish to contort,
constrain,
control,
but a demon answers only to that of it’s own greed,
no man may quiet its roaring,
its heartless contortioning.
It’s an angel without a heart beat,
a cadaver with a taste for its own flesh,
make me a monster manufactured under every roof,
we’ve got too much human to feel.
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:29 AM UTC
.*i can think of one cool job... a nighttime DJ on a radio station... anything more cool than being a DJ between the hours 12am through to 5am? honestly... can't think of a cooler job... all the song requests are gone from the classical.fm show between 3pm and 5pm... now one is telling you what to do... **** me... as a kid... either a veterinarian, or an owner of a music shop... now? an insomniac DJ... they would never play Christopher Young's Something to Think About in the afternoon... sorry... i'm a Hellraiser cult-follower of the first two movies... and that song? why? i just can't be bothered with listening to that Braveheart over-scratched Song of / for a Princess... it's good... once in a while... but, come, on!*
just one of those nights...
having listened to the scoops
from the alternative...
worried your to hell
about not having *******
enough concerning
the previous day's load
which would make the pleasures
of **** *** look tame...
perched on a windowsill -
solving a sudoku -
and listening to
Frank Zappa's occam's razor...
and wishing:
making sure it was never
hot in the city
by Billy Idol,
or Kiss' crazy nights
to usher in the night,
and the watchman...
why?
it's not your standard
guitar solo...
it's a medley...
big difference...
guitar solos are bound to
a strict return to the rhythm
section...
they are caged beasts...
composed of a restricted
time constrain in a song...
but a guitar medley?
**** me...
it's what obliterates
a need for vocals...
the guitar medley is
the vocals substitute...
and that aspect of music?
mm... gummy bears...
jelly in the knees...
which is why i like
the fact that jazz is the antithesis
of classical music symphony...
sure... i get the Schubert / Schumann
piano duets...
nice...
but jazz?
the breakdown of the quintet?
**** let me count...
piano, drums...
bass... horn... sax...
yep, a quintet...
that moment in a jazz
song? where each instrument
player gets his solo?
genius!
the same with a guitar medley...
neither solo,
nor the rhythm section...
what a beautiful opening
to what i expect to be,
a beautiful night:
as the watchman once said.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 6:34 PM UTC
I will accept thy will to do and be,
Thy hatred and intolerance of sin,
Thy will at least to love, that burns within
And thirsteth after Me:
So will I render fruitful, blessing still
The germs and small beginnings in thy heart,
Because thy will cleaves to the better part.--
Alas, I cannot will.
Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive
The inner unseen longings of the soul;
I guide them turning towards Me; I control
And charm hearts till they grieve:
If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass,
Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love;
For I have power in earth and heaven above.--
I cannot wish, alas!
What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet
I still must strive to win thee and constrain:
For thee I hung upon the cross in pain,
How then can I forget?
If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate,
Nor choose, nor wish,--resign thyself, be still
Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will.--
I do not deprecate.
2.1k
Mother of Light, and the Gods! Mother of Music, awake!
Silence and speech are at odds; Heaven and Hell are at
stake.
By the Rose and the Cross I conjure; I constrain by the
Snake and the Sword;
I am he that is sworn to endure -Bring us the word of the
Lord!
By the brood of the Bysses of Brightening, whose God was
my sire;
By the Lord of the Flame and Lightning, the King of
the Spirits of Fire;
By the Lord of the Waves and the Waters, the King of the
Hosts of the Sea,
The fairest of all of whose daughters was mother to me;
By the Lord of the Winds and the Breezes, the king of the
Spirits of Air,
In whose ***** the infinite ease is that cradled me there;
By the Lord of the Fields and the Mountains, the King of
the Spirits of Earth
That nurtured my life at his fountains from the hour of my
birth;
By the Wand and the Cup I conjure; by the Dagger and
Disk I constrain;
I am he that is sworn to endure; make thy music again!
I am Lord of the Star and the Seal; I am Lord of the Snake
and the Sword;
Reveal us the riddle, reveal! Bring us the word of the Lord!
As the flame of the sun, as the roar of the sea, as the storm
of the air,
As the quake of the earth -let it soar for a boon, for a bane,
for a snare,
For a lure, for a light, for a kiss, for a rod, for a scourge, for
a sword -
Bring us thy burden of bliss -Bring us the word of the
Lord!
2.1k
every girl just looks so **** good
I try not to be a lion on the prowl
bite my lips & take the drag of a cigarette
I need to help restrain myself, to
breath in the fresh air and constrain
myself; don't pounce girl, you've got this.
but he's still the name I call to while dreaming
the hands I want on me
the lips I need to be kissed by
& the air I dare to breathe.
He is the man who moves me
try to understand, he's the magic man
shifts me inside in ways
no wife I covet can.
He's the one I'm nervous to lie with
scared I'll lose myself in the thought of him
that's all it is, really: the illusion,
the daydreams of a girl who lives
more in her head than in the world
distant sometimes hazy others
& totally unreachable occasionally.
I wish I could have him
under my skin
but I'm not ready
to deal with the consequences
of being his girl.
I'd love to
live beside his shadow
the relief that washes over me
when he says my name
erodes the disorder
lifts my eyes from my feet
makes my heart
swell & body melt.
it's the kind of contentment
that I know will destroy me
in the withdrawl.
it's the kind of baby young love
that encapsulates the happy victims
imprisons you in the sugar & honeycomb sweet wonderland
that turns sour when you relax in the beauty
& forget that lambs
are often lions, too.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd,
And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet sweet
Fetter'd, in spite of pained loveliness;
Let us find out, if we must be constrain'd,
Sandals more interwoven and complete
To fit the naked foot of poesy;
Let us inspect the lyre, and weigh the stress
Of every chord, and see what may be gain'd
By ear industrious, and attention meet:
Misers of sound and syllable, no less
Than Midas of his coinage, let us be
Jealous of dead leaves in the bay wreath crown;
So, if we may not let the Muse be free,
She will be bound with garlands of her own.
1.9k
I am not yet defiled; O hear me.
Let not the crazed hornets or serpents or ophidian or the
buzzard bee come near me.
I am not yet defiled; console me.
I fear that the snake charmer may with rhythmic body clocks clock me,
with predatory hissing paralyze me, with authoritative power anger me,
on wicker constraints constrain me, in bamboo-patches pierce me.
I am not yet defiled; provide me
With beauty to free me, dressage to cover me, silence to come
to me, souls to save me, charmers and angels
in my wandering existence seeking fights to waver the war within me.
I am not yet defiled; forgive me
For the provocative glances in me, my presence when womanity holds me,
my mythological beauty by deities beyond me,
my head held high when they slay by means of my
crossbow, my addiction when they poison me.
I am not yet defiled; rehearse me
In the dreams and the prayers I must take when
art interrupts me, material disturbs me, splintered souls
gaze at me, smiles fade at me, the knifes edge
stains me and everlasting scars pain
me to shame and the shames taints
my skin and my heart abandons me.
I am not yet defiled; O hear me,
Let not Perseus who is warrior or who thinks he is King
or a rival to me.
I am not yet defiled; O fill me
With gasoline against those who would inhabit my
bones, would sink me into empty caverns,
would make me a prisoner locked, a monster with
blood dripping, a monster, and a passer of dis-ease
who would execute my self, would
flush me like ***** oozing and
***** and ooze and *****
like alcohol seeping in the
pores would drown me.
Let Poseidan not make me defiled and let him not **** me.
Otherwise **** me.
© Sia Jane
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Gold or silver, every day,
Dies to gray.
There are knots in every skein.
Hours of work and hours of play
Fade away
Into one immense Inane.
Shadow and substance, chaff and grain,
Are as vain
As the foam or as the spray.
Life goes crooning, faint and fain,
One refrain:
'If it could be always May!'
Though the earth be green and gay,
Though, they say,
Man the cup of heaven may drain;
Though, his little world to sway,
He display
Hoard on hoard of pith and brain:
Autumn brings a mist and rain
That constrain
Him and his to know decay,
Where undimmed the lights that wane
Would remain,
If it could be always May.
Yea, alas, must turn to nay,
Flesh to clay.
Chance and Time are ever twain.
Men may scoff, and men may pray,
But they pay
Every pleasure with a pain.
Life may soar, and Fortune deign
To explain
Where her prizes hide and stay;
But we lack the ***** train
We should gain,
If it could be always May.
Envoy
Time, the pedagogue, his cane
Might retain,
But his charges all would stray
Truanting in every lane--
Jack with Jane--
If it could be always May.
1.7k
It has been so long since I last saw you,
Haven't thought about you in a while so I thought I was good
Recently I have been asking myself why I think about you so much-
I think about all our shared memories and how I was touched
I thought I had no problem moving on and forgetting our past;
I did not expect that my lingering feelings for you would last
"Why couldn't I just accept your love and stay?"
I have been asking myself this question every day
I have forgotten your voice, your looks, your smile
My memories of you have been cast away in a messy pile
I miss the way you would understand,
Listen carefully and be there whenever I needed a hand
I miss the way you could read my mind;
Know what to say even when the words were hard to find
I miss the way you could put a smile on my face;
Make the stresses go away and help me forget my mistakes
You'll never read this but I want you to know:
The truth behind my decisions, and that I was loyal
The letters we exchanged were few but meaningful,
They are the only things I can currently cling onto
I hope that you have been doing well, I really do
Staying away from you is probably the best thing I can do for you
I am really sorry for the hurtful, regretful things I have done to you,
Although you say that it's fine, I still feel so guilty for what ensued
Mixed feelings start overwhelming me as I am seeing you soon,
Am I nervous, excited, or over the moon?
I don't know how you feel but I hope to set things right again,
Maybe we can be good friends again if my feelings I can constrain
21/11/2021
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 12:16 PM UTC
All thought the night
The stars and the moon are so bright
My feelings are hard to constrain
But I stand here alone with my pain
Now here I stand
The cold bitter wind on my hands
But I got a firm grip understand
These feelings for you were not planed
Holding on
To these feelings for you
Holding on
Not sure what to do
Holding on
And it's not fair to you
Holding on
Now comes the dawn
A golden blue sky coming on
The warmth on my face I can feel
Please tell me this pain is not real
And in my heart
These feelings for you I impart
And the tears I don't want them to start
Cause that's when it all falls apart
Holding on
To these feelings for you
Holding on
Not sure what to do
Holding on
And it's not fair to you
Holding on
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
I am not some mere romantic
Hopelessly in love or seemingly frantic
I am simply a man with sophomoric antics.
Closing in fast and with my dreams supplanted
By what I can only imagine is a place unwieldily for simple magic.
For there are no dragons of ancient lore,
Nor, for me, beautifully tantalizing ******
But simply mistakes of my past, to reach me at last.
I imagine everyone creates this place of loathings' past.
While some do not believe in hell defined by a scripture, I assure you somewhere in your eternal slumber you will experience the guilt of past discomfort.
I pray it is only for a second for you, not minutes or hours or years or eternities.
But to whom will I pray? Myself I dare not say. However there is no man in the sky to consider my actions against me, there is no entity impartial to judge lonely old me. There will always be a standard for justice, good, evil, loyalty, infidelity, and of course, people.
But who is our judge? Is it not oneself? And if not, then who else?
I say none have the authority to constrain one but himself.
And if he wish to abide by his own moral abomination, too far outside similar creations.
His life, it will be taken.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 7:34 AM UTC
Locking under your swollen, cracked lips, a taste of unrequited freedom draws near.
These ****** streams that seep through my pores are yours, as much as they are mine.
Trace yourself around me, as the red tears under my walls escape and dribble down your limp touch.
Feel the gears that constrain me.
Hold me, love me.
As my fingers glide across your face, I find my secret hiding place.
Eyes blink, as soon as they meet.
Soon to be defeated by rational delusions.
It’s not so scary after all.
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
The churning *** keeps my family one
The fog of delight hides us from the sun
A taste of complacence to keep me compliant
Frames of despair keep the hallways’ alignment
This battleship lands in Australia for now
And burns its own flag along with sundown
The captain is weak, the crewmen have perished
The telescope frowns when it scans the cherished
The cook yells, “My, with the onions, I cry!”
The maid is convinced,by her use of lye,
That this is a happy crew of the sea
Where everyone’s something to puke except me
I stayed on the bridge with a knife in my eye
The pensive maiden disarms with a sigh
Here lies the painting of a family brew
The mirror, indifferent of me, is true
Metal footsteps of a boy led blind
The chef and the captain maintain their grind
And thrive in contrivance of a world kept stable
Where all the rules lie in the food of a table
The boy has been strung across the bridge, politely
And left to a tool of love, coded tightly
There is nothing in the night’s facade of blue
I’m a ***** to the smell of the ship-crew’s stew
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
Secrets of Wysteria flow in the vessels of my brain
And so I do not hear, nor comprehend the calling of my thought’s train
Vowing to never be held again in constrain
Eradicating the rotten fingers pointing to my disdain
Muses of bruises, callouses, and roses
Excuses the clueless, hung in ruin’s nooses
Flagitious tongue sharpens itself with sprawling centipedes
Rusted teeth from perilous mandibles bleed as it feeds
On the oozing, ****** veins of the wicked ****** as it pleads
Maybe these are too much for one’s avaricious needs?
Mindful, careful, piercing the syringe of refrain on plump flesh
Yeuking as the substance flows on blood so raw and fresh
Amid all, the past and future gather in Sheol’s pavilion
But missing is the presence of present in emblazing vermillion
Yet fleetly missed as the siren descanted her composition
Somber statues of ivory pretense witness with volition
Saints and snakes tear each other’s throats in a languish cotillion.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 8:15 AM UTC
the beast in me wants to romp
and enrage the beast in you
tonight
you see my beast is locked up
in chains, a fearful cell--
locked tight
but when yours calls mine
it answers with unabashed
delight
"set me free," it begs
and the shadows grow
with fright
with myself and my desire
my deadly determination that I—I
am right
then your pet answers me and
out they fly—sparks and gunpowder
ignite
the beasts in lethal fury
grievances, protests, objections
recite
unfettered, unchained, and uncontrolled
they spin, they soar, they destroy
they fight
we lock away our agency
our wisdom—our love
from sight
our pets are eating us, my dear!
we look at each other and mourn,
contrite
too late. the damaged flesh
has uncovered our bones and shown us
each bite
there is no return.
but perhaps if we wrestle,
unite?
with every power we strive:
we send those animals back into
the night
when the morning breaks at last
have we gained
insight?
are we richer than before?
do we know any more with
hindsight?
is it worth the blood we bore
as our beasts fought before
daylight?
silence. there is no good
from letting the beast pretend to be
a knight
we have not won this day;
the events do nothing but
indict
we must build cages that hold our beasts
that constrain this ugly temper
more tight
and keep our hands off the latches
because love is always better
than spite
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 10:21 PM UTC
Constrain me
Lock me away
To save me
In your mind
Or closet
Or under your bed
Packed
To find me
When you shake
When you scream
Store me
And forget me
So when you expect me least
There I will be.
Carnivorously.
Holding you down
Your flesh between my jaws
Seething
Breathing
Through teeth
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 11:58 PM UTC
it refuses to leave
a lashing soaring tide
the frozen etch of past
on ripples of my mind
the shattered reverie
forged into scripted moves
fading out as weeks
yet vivid i assume
which mirrors as a rift
between the sea of love
sandwiched reluctantly
with turgid smiles of
a pair of sunken hearts
dissected by the world
be lost unto our fate
as oceans conceal pearls
across the breadth of life
by breed of hailing wise
who pompously reject
shackle our maiden flight
constrain the gayle till dawn
repress the blooms of time
yet shadowed by romance
still dream along shall i
behope a spring of sun
which fills this yawning void
behold the scents of spring
beneath your cursive smile
to wait upon a day
yearning for misty greens
dressed up in coils of love
until eternity
to ooze a sight of heaven
to bleed a laugh again
even as stale horizons
fervently await
a day which breathes upon
brilliance of tranquil nights
surround a whirl of stars
and kiss our florid sky
as bristling autumns flow
from her dreamy eyes
my maestro shall compose
the adagio of life
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 1:41 PM UTC
A simple smile that can cut through clouds as ominous as my fears.
A touch that can constrain my thoughts into a silent warm room.
Words that can save a lost soul from drowning in themselves.
A heart that is pure, patient, and persistent.
You are the reason the sky is blue and not gray.
You are the energy I need to ignite a lingering thought that terrorizes my brain.
Forever moving and adapting to my contradictions.
Forever still and strong as I travel down a road I must take; that may well break me into many tiny pieces that will fill the lungs and stomachs of all that I love.
Suffocating them into extinction and spreading across fields like wild fire.
Then I am back.
Back to you… Home.
O.K.
Still walking, still fighting
I know now this fight is no longer just for me, but for all those who will suffer from my broken pieces.
All those who live in a world I do not understand.
And then I am back.
You are what keeps me up when I am no longer able to put a foot in front of the other.
I just need to remember to comeback. Never letting these tiny morsels of my truths take me too far from you.
Always keeping my hand in yours. Always taking each step with you in sight.
I need to always remember the place I can fall to is REAL and it can tear away all that is dear to me.
I promise to come back always to you.
Because your simple smile can cut through clouds as ominous as my fears.
Your touch can constrain my thoughts into a silent warm room.
Your words can save this lost soul from drowning in themselves.
Your heart always pure, patient, and persistent
I will always come back to you.
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 11:33 AM UTC
No agony is greater than the yoke
Men fastened round my love
Her lines they bounded with metres
Her flow they have blocked with patterns and rhymes
Her end they constrain with rules
I crave the freedom to paint her as I deem fit
She's born of my thoughts and feelings
Sorrow would be less so
If there were rules to grieving
I'm breaking her rules
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
As pure as water can be, in an affluent and wealthy country,
My soul has a Cornelian dilemma when it comes to purity.
How can we be good people when we live so easily?
Innocents are dying of thirst and I take a bath every other day.
Does it really count if one buys organic and fair-trade items,
When it is that easy, that accessible, and they are still hungry over there?
But what else are we allowed to do, that is not too compelling?
What can our money do, when all it does now constrain others?
I try every day to be as good, as pure, as I am able to
Though I still feel futile, small... and unrealistically optimistic.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
Consumed by the flames
By the flames
Start the fire, I need you to feel this
As high as it can go, I need to feel it
Light the fire, you want me to feel this
We want to see how high we can go
We want to be consumed by the flames
Take a risk, make a wish
Until then, stay cool
After this, you will never be the same
This isn't right, I close my eyes
Prepare myself for the falling sky
I caused so much harm, I don't know why
I've had my lows, I had my highs
I did my best, now I return
With a clean slate and a lesson learned
I've been mocked, betrayed and scorned
But now I know everything can burn
Consumed by the flames
Take aim
Take blame
Play games
Cause pain
Call names
Make claims
Suppressing feelings, I'm going numb
I can't eat, sleep or see where your coming from
I try to excite myself, lust and near death's never help
I accept death and **** life and the hand I'm dealt
I've ignored the truth, avoided responsibility
But it's in the back of my mind kicking constantly
Now it's time do pay my do's I'm through with tries
I refuse to come back with a consolation prize
Consumed by the flames
Be tamed
Break chains
Disclaim
Proclaim
Insane
No shame
Turn it up, let them watch
Turn me out, I can't be stopped
Nowhere else to go, carrying my woes
Turning into someone I don't even know
Just paying back everything I owe
I've come this far, so
I've come this far
Let the flames consume me
In vain
Fast lane
Life's strain
Constrain
Left brain
Profane
I should have listened
But hear me now
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
It's silly how I found you so weird
How I laughed silently at how lame your jokes were
How I cried silently at how I had to explain how nothing was your fault
It's silly how I regret, yet constrain myself
Because as much as I think of you,
I hate you for the things you said.
It's silly how you have no idea, sillier that you probably never will
But I never want to see your face again,
Although you made me smile.
You made me feel things when I didn't know how to,
And it makes me happy sometimes.
The other times, I hate you for using me.
And sometimes, I hate you for messing around,
I also hate you for killing my self-esteem.
You could call it self-torture,
But I rather stay away,
Than to allow you to grow flowers in my heart,
After pouring acid all over the garden,
Twice.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
The flesh hungers for Vengeance.
Beneath, blood runs hot,
Blood lust rising
Barely contained.
Black whispers with
Silver tongues
Caress fresh wounds
With shadow tendrils.
Dark wings, dark words,
Fire is fueled as
Gilded shackles constrain.
Chafed wrists bleed with
Fresh Vigor.
The Blood is the life,
Falls wearily to the floor.
Hot crimson stark
Against the unforgiving stone.
Rage fades to agony.
The weight of despair,
Crushing.
Strength of the Hammer,
Phoenix Rising,
Come What May...
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:32 PM UTC