Spriralling down profanity
Standing on the cliff of blasphemy
She looked for angels inside of demons
Where God's decree was nowhere to be found
She had faith in what she saw
Preachers and believers
Insolence and deciept
Their words of judgement reaching out to cage her in
Threatening punishment
Imploring her to forgiveness
God, there is sacrilege
This world is rampant with hypocrites
Her heart is full of your love
Yet desires the forbidden
The unsanctioned
It harms not a soul, not even her own
But holds her happiness down the one path
That strays just a little from the rules
God, who loves the impious preachers and believers
The patient and forgiving
Can these two paths not become one?
Where the blood in her veins runs by His decree
Every breath she takes is with His grace

Oil stains valors blood
Corruption soils loyalty
Deciept won't wash out

It was an object of futility to remain unloved,
The only emotion worthy of our otherwise meaningless existence,
Forced with a first kiss, intimacy then adoration,
Beauty lying in the speculation,
Taunting us with it's ugly judgement,
The promise of a world that was written as unmoving,
A moment established on deciept
It was unexisting and were fools.

The allure of which we were all captivated by,
Was not the moment we shared, the touch, the ecstasy,
But the weightless instant after,
The silence we were left with when everything fell,
When the naivety had thawed under the heat of passion,
And we were left only with ourselves,
Because after all, we would die,
And we would die and decay alone,
With only our desolate last moment to comprehend, to reason existence.

WE ARE...

We are all puzzle pieces born from different souls,
Those that have taken a lifetime to find the missing pieces to make them whole.

We are all shipwrecks re built from board to bough to set sail again under silken sails to discover our true destination beyond watery horizons.

We are all bleeding hearts, beating in vein of a higher calling.
To unite together to rediscover hope through love.

We are all mountains, it's a merciless climb to the summit but well worth the journey to admire the views of tomorrow.

We are all one decision away from a beautiful life.
One choice away from a different destination.

We are one river away from the tides of change.
Oceans apart, from small ripples that grew.
That all started with you.

We are one betrayal away from a new trust of opinion.
To build our wisdoms without lies of deciept, but bare honesty openly as vunerabilty of our souls.

We are but one painting away from our legacy,
make your picture memorable, as a journal you kept in childhood years.
Painted with excitement from sleepy eyed dreams.

Were are all one feather apart from a new journey poised with direction,
soaring on a winged bird as free as the open skies, we are freed.

We are all one season away from storms of the night, blown in winds of change.
Like the last fallen leaf in fall, we will regrow reborn in spring.

We are all one soul away from an outstretched hand to hold, be it young or old to guide us.
To grip fingerprints as unique as us all.
To help us unite on intimate grasps.

We are all one story away from a different ending,
How you choose to write the next chapter.
Be it in pencil or ink soaked emotions what colour is up to you.


We are all puzzle pieces born from different souls,
Those that have taken a lifetime to find the missing pieces to make us whole.

Maggie Evans

For I was thrown to the brooding storm
On a day so bright, yet so forlorn
If I had known the tasks back then
That sat before this saddest of men
Does it matter to thee, to write & to play
To write of such bother, oh torment do stay
For without thou angst, does passion not thrive
Should it be light, not dark by my side
For thou has dwelt within gardens of sin
Did dance, with a devils grin
Keep thi enemies close they say
It is easier to see him coming that way
Why him not her, no mention of maid
For the arms of thy Women, were warm & safe
Like sweet smelling roses
Warm days & cold nights
They did comfort, this saddest of men
For if not forlorn & broken today
Does thy not know, the happiest of days
Deciept & hate, i know these well
But abandon me not, the roses sweet smell
For these tears of pain should serve thee well
For on stalks of thorns, is the roses sweet smell. ©
Poem by Shannon Leckie 1998