In the darkness of the night we were designed to be as bright as The stars spread across the spacious skies of Twilight.
Never knowing that from the outside we shined.
Our expressions mirrors our thoughts weather it be divine or unkind.
I guess thats why they say The face is the window into the mind.
And The eyes are the pathway to the soul
Playing  the most influential role
Filtering what our vision percieves because  it affects us as whole.
It has the power to control the thoughts flowing through our menatal.
Now I understand why its impoartant to look beyond the physical,
Its too seek what truth lies within realms of the spiritual.
As I Let my words be like water and flow from my lips as i give my confessional
I begun to get emotional
Because I went from Fighting battles Just as Joshua did in Jericho
To Being surrounded by a devasting tornado
Only to coming out on the other side and being Just as glorious as a rainbow.
While The Most High Sculpts and paints my portrait of life  better Than any famous artifacts crafted my MichealAngelo.
Or Even more creativie and colorful than any painting by vincent van gogh.
And more Illustration then what is depicted in the Last Supper by Leonardo.
Builted with Empathy, curiousity and strong willed like children of Indigo.
I am a Specially made Individual.
Made in his image therefore I am beautiful.
No longer am I a Embryo, I have been birthed from the womb in the spiritual.
Like A Sunflower flourishing from the seed that was planted in the meadow, I grow.
As I stay under my Savior's teaching, learning and applying what I know.

His Love and blessings are as Rivers that overflow.
The Holy spirit illuminates my body lighting a fire in the pit of soul as it ignites a fluorescence light to glow.
Awaken My sleeping soul.

I had a dream about you. Gentle grunts pushed out of your lips as my hands wrapped a compress around your aged skin. Bullet wounds had become a mundane part our days, as did new spaces.  We were assassins, on the run from any type of law. Evasion and hiding were all we knew at this point. That and each other , and frankly that’s all we really needed. Eventually we ensconced ourselves in a little flat in Marrakesh. Haunted by the beams of sunrise, we spoke about everything from simple quandaries to wistful thoughts of our past life together . Recurrent remnants that only revealed them selves when I saw you look out coldly into the distance. You told me about how much you used to have a crush on me. I told you how I struggled to learn Russian. “Это не простой язык.” You smile , the little things always make you smile. As we kiss ,a bang on our fortified door happens. The sûreté nationale had us cornered. I panic, pondering. How did the find us so quickly !? A swan like movement was all it took and in a moment I was ready with an Ak-47 in hand  and duffle bag of cash on my back. To my surprise I looked over and saw you lounging on the chair drinking the last of your scotch-whiskey, head seemingly clouded. I was confused. The door was on the verge of being breached and with an  accent originating from south Staraya (acquired from years of missions in the motherland ) you speak. “ I’m tired of running, Isaiah.I’ve spent my whole life running, Ive spent it hiding and repressing….thinking and crying. I’m tired of that.” I grieved for those words as they left the solace of your thoughts “ When I was a child all I ever wanted to do was play, but they wouldn’t let me. All I ever wanted to do was be free!” , a cold silence fills the air “…but they wouldn’t let me.” Your pain reminiscent of time long ago in place very far away

A séance ensuded in my mind as I recalled a version of you and I that had retained some, if any innocence. Tears cascading down your tawny skin, you wept to me just before dawn had set. Life to you became unbearable as you reveal all the things that brought pain. Telling me stories of ****, neglect and so much more in your youth. Not to mention the trifecta of abuse by your parents, leaving menatal, physical, and emotional scars for many day, months, and years to come.” I just want to  leave” you whispered into my chest. In a calm reflective tone I asked” where would you go?”  You whispered “Far away.” Dawn had just begun and rays of sun snuck through the blinds of my apartment in Fullerton. “ What would you do?” Without thinking you unborrowed your head and gave a stare of passionate indiffernece to the world and eveything encompassed in it. ”Anything I want”. We shared a silence.

The thought of loving someone with all my being used to scare me. I used to have mild fits of terror, shocked by how it can destroy a man from the inside out. It just seems like a black hole. So it holds good logic that by the time I realzied what my heart held dearest was you, I couldnt do much about. It was malignant. Seeing your face that morning and knowing how you felt brought me to a place of desperation. I knew then and there that I’d do anything for you. So I made promises, I told you that we could go, that I’d run with you, and we’d never look back… and thats exactly what we did.

 That is to say, I wasnt proud of what we did. We went from average citizens to killers for hire. But I was happy with what we accomplished, for we had captured paradise on earth. We didnt answer to anyone.We didnt need to worry about relatively anything and most importantly we didnt have to do anything we didnt want to do. We were free, or at the very least, as close as one could get to it.

Snapping out of my momentary trance, I see you move and hear the breaking of the door. Berreta in hand you took to your feet and aimed at the door. “They’ll NEVER let us be free, so-” I aim my AK at the remains of our door way and reply “ We must take our freedom .” In one final solemn moment we shared two sets of final words “je t'aime —–.” “ я люблю тебя, Isaiah.” Instantly the room was raided, Shell casings rained down , cleansing all impurities.



We died. We were free.