Deep in the obis of a poet,
There's a playlist,
Called "Dead Poets"
It's where the songs of their lives
Live. Filled with death, despair,
Haunted memories.
Where no one dares to tread.

Once that poet has gone,
On their own terms,
They search through the poet's
Obis, they find a letter in the notes.
It reads "Love,
I must leave you here alone.
I am sorry that I have forsaken you.
In the depths of the Obis you will find
The playlist I lived by.
Under the name of Dead Poets.
There you will find,
The reason I had to leave you behind
- Your Dead Poet"
They searched the obis,
They found the playlist
In the first words of the songs read
"You Could Have
Foreseen
This"

Death gives no rest to my cluttered mind. Death is my enemy! Even in slumber death claws to infect my dreams with its poison called nothingness! So I locked death in the depths of my heart in a chest marked fear. I put on different worldly masks… called college, travel, success, accolades, fiancé, money, ***….I used them to hide my shame but each one was cold blue and hypothermic. Yet in them I felt comfortable at the expense of lost potential and false identity. In frostbites pinnacle my only unbreakable mask shattered…..I lost my Love…………The wailing echoes of delusion shook me frigid till my raw bones shattered the question. Who am I? The undercurrent of desperation violently hydrated my reflection on the dark waters of my soul! I am faceless! Without a face who am I! Death take me now, for I am already nothing!   From below came a vibration that graced my reflection with an ear, a lash and a deep iris.. then windows to my soul sprang and a smile dripped in unabated rejoice…I’m alive!!!! Who has done this?! Show your face, for you are my dearest friend!  Without words death was shaken loose to the depressing reality of dipped anxiety. From behind my many masks I could see Death. For the first time I face you! Your eyes paint the familiar threat that casts me into the obis of nothingness but without you life was delusional meaninglessness! Because of your death threats my life has a face.  Death is my Enemy and my Friend……………..Jesus conquered death so through it I may learn the meaning of His Love and who I really am......now to take down more of my masks……easier said than done....Praise Jesus.........To be continued……………….

O Lord i don't know anything!
I know nothing of nothing----which is the something of my everything----It is my every being as a creature called man----
Yet all is dust for dust-----leaving me with a world of nothing.....
i think there for i am but i know nothing....yet i think nothing is everything----
i am therefore a living nothing doing nothing and everything dust could do----futile

A Rich man laid trapped in an evil desert obis.
Meanwhile a bounty hunter searched for a disabled elder a miss.
He heard the screams desperate deep and blurted.
He ignored his senses, weighting risk like none had heard it.

His body walked on but his nose smelt loot.
He risked his life and clawed him out honey to scoop.
Boosted on shoulders the triumph tasted lick on sweet!
A statue I will make in your honor for your courageous feet!

“No need I’m just happy your safe no need for honor!”
But deep in the invisible dark silence he brood for his daughter.
Then a stench of half eaten carcass ransomed the moment gross and misplaced.
Staring in disgust they agreed “What a pitiful disgrace!

The day before walked the elder man whom was blind and mute.
He heard a cry from the soil and searched in earnest for the root
He clapped his hands and stomped his feet
Risking his very life in blind eyes deceit

Grabbing at the wind, tired broken in vain.
The rich man heard his noisy attempts and cursed his name.
That didn't stop the blind and mute man from trying.
Instead a jagged stone gashed open his leg leaving him bleeding and dying.

The grains of the dessert soaked the earth and cried for his rest.
As the coyotes fought over his wounded flesh....
The rich man claimed “my life I swear will be in your place!!”
With his last bit of life the old man wished the man in the pit would be safe................................

You seem to have the wrong idea
I have one face but six layers
And each dip you go further into
Black obis and hollow space
No light at the end of the tunnel

    I wrote you a sonnet when I was
    Devoted and committed to the idea of one love
    One single entity to circulate a set of rules
Guidelines
    You’re my marker for each page but
    You’re starting to tear
    And I threw away that ratty glue gun yesterday

Tomorrow is farther down the road
And I am stuck in a congested traffic in
The middle of nowhere
Next to a sign that says Do Not Return: Instant Failure Ahead

Reborn into this skin of a warrior. Past these birthmarks and moles are stories of the warriors battle scars. You ask me why my heart aches out of my chest, yet this is just my battle cries. Dancing in the flame, though I won't let the devil submerge me. Drowning into obis of my pasts regrets. Dainty ink marked my skin with the things this little girl never said. When I absorb them into my shoulder they no longer felt so dainty. Biting my lip made a metal taste absorb into my tastebuds memory and it felt almost like revenge of my enemies.

Frost bitten
Cross wearing
Lost her path
The map burned to a crisp
Probably now just smoke in the obis.
What was it that mad her crack like this

She takes a rest
Childhood memories attack
Remembers the lashes and the cigarette burns.
Hear the yells and gets chills down her back.

She wakes up
Looks in the mirror
And sees her mother
The image of exactly what she never wanted to be.
She trys to run free.
Exaping her past she Flys away to a much safer place.

She recuperated
Not thinking about the past
She made a name
Had a job.
Played no games.

looking back there was only one thing she left when she ran.
The loving warm touch of her dream man.
Longing The tight embrace of his gentle hands.
She did all she could.
One day she wish he understood.
She loves him.
But running has always been her chosen path.

Lost love
Crossed paths
Hope one day they will make it last.

I want to bleed
To make sure I am still living
The pain growing inside my chest
I want to bleed
Please mercy let me bleed
Bleed out as my body falls limp
Surrender to the pain
'Cause that is all I feel anymore
Happiness is a mere apparition in an obis
Of eternal darkness
We like to sugar-coat it
With peace and humanity
But the black hatred
Will always over power the light and love
War will always take down peace
I want to bleed out the happiness
For it will only bring deeper grief.

“I am that of a rugged farmhand quite,
Adept to love cordially,
As that alone of a man and the sea,
Created in the depths of the ocean floor,

Envisioning you brought me to the earth,
Leaping bounds in wonder of the sunlight you bring,
As if on the back of a blackbird disgorged from his beak,
Adjacent the swampy sand shore with crushing waves,

Body of not a dowager but of a celestial woman,
I could survive this if this was not a delusion,
I could utilize my feelings as a weapon to elude her to me,
She will be in my arms I know when the time is right,
The hour of reprisal abates and I know I love this matron,

I will prevail in the elegance of this beautiful deity,
Darkness falling upon us as I thirst for immutable desire,
A silk white obis garb of roses beneath the garment,
Our voices assessing words and then our merriment of fervor,
As the ennui follows joy jaded our eyes vision of Passion”

By AG 04/26/2018  ©

Your eyes turn the colorful world you once knew, into a menacing, grey-scaled, wonder, from which you in no way, under any circumstances, could be pulled.
Your thoughts drag you into a never ending obis which drain the purpose from your lungs and the words from your lips.
You long to hold someones hand, but the only support is the railing, which you grip with such a force your knuckles turn the shade of table salt.
The realization that you are on your own...
sinks in.
You make your way down the hallway,
with such determination, you could burn cities, topple skyscrapers.
The hope of surfacing is washed away,
you need help... but do you want it?
No, you don't want the never ending burden to be ****** onto the ones that you care so much about.
A burning feeling fills your ribs and clots your torso with panic as you sink to the floor.
Curling into a shell of what you once were...
Or would be... you can't make out the real or the fake.
...
Finally, you emerge back into the static world you were once in. Reassuring your eyes with color, the world seems no longer separated from your grasp...
Your friends, family, and everything you care about stand sharp in your mind... they never left you...
Why did you try to leave them?

By. Lauren

Darkness has engulfed the world.
Burning everything I called precious.
Making you cry.
Will it ever end?
The obis is killing me.
I miss the world we use to have.
The one not engulfed in darkness.
But instead shining with light.

By. Lauren

I try to pursue my dreams but every time I'm faced with the harsh reality.
Ideas never come to me.
It always must be on their own terms.
Today I realized
I am lost in the obis of my own poetry.
No escape of finishing a poem:
All I know how to do is repeat a line.
Will this ever be done?
Poetry is a dream of mine.
If only it was not a weary traveler carrying only one bag at a time.
Poetry how may I help you today?

By. Lauren

For the longest time I feared death itself.
I wasn't afraid all those times to take my life.
Yet today I think in fear.
I do not know in which I believe.
A heaven or hell.
An eternity with him.
All that I come back to is fear.
The world is my happy place.
A *** brimming with just the right amount perfection yet the proportional pinch of imperfection to top it all off.
I guess what I'm saying is I'm afraid to believe in heavens perfection.
It's just the preacher always said hell was no party either.
Only a scorching arena of loneliness.
Do I believe in either?
My religion was forced upon me to the point I snapped.
I do not know in which I believe.
Maybe the world just simply ends.
No heaven or hell.
Only a simple lights out.
When it all ends will we just be floating?
Souls in the obis of outer space drifting along never to see one another again.
Still alive but not truly there.
Not truly human.
Just weary travelers who will never lock eyes again.
Is this how it all ends?