There are five widely known senses.
Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste.
We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more.
However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.

   If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.
   These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.
   So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.
   If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.

   Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.
   During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts).
Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.
   Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).
   The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.

   If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?
   When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?

Oh dear brave knight,
Who ventures into the wilds
Please draw your sword
And fight away the horde.

She's a hero into my heart
With the strenght to tear us apart
Come here and fight away
The monsters that are wide awake
And then eat this piece of cake.

She's always into a fight
Because she is my brave knight
Come here and claim your prize
Because this is the tale of the knight.

Death was not unfamilar to me. I'd killed my share of things classified as monsters. I wasn't complaining really, my job kept the humans safe. I just felt guilty, I was practically a monster myself. They call us Warriors of the night, we're not Vampires, we are born with extra strenght and a long life span. I was born a long time ago, I was raised to **** monsters that terrorize the human race. Since I was six, I'd been trained to ****. I was a killing machine, best of my kind. Yet somehow, even though what I do is considered an honor, I don't feel proud. I've been doing my job much to long, and lately I'd began getting sloppy with my work. God knows Rowan would be one ****** of boss if he heard about me letting the group of baby Werewolves. I wasn't a complete heartless ******* to **** a bunch of babies.
    I might've been two years ago, before the whole incident happened. I layed my head in my hands, I couldn't go there, not now. I needed a clear head. My small apartment in Master Singu's house was getting messy. I hadn't had time to clean lately with all of the monster attacks that had been popping up lately. Ghouls, Goblins, Oni, Ogre, you name it and it's been attacking. Wasn't much we could do with the Banshee, they were more of a signifier then a monster. A signifier of death, and usually they gave me a heads up if the person who's house it's been surrounding, is gonna die. Banshee were cruel looking creatures, never gotten to close to one, they make **** sure of that. Not sure I ever want to. They were ruled by the one and only, Death. And i will gladly stay as far from death as possible. Haven't heard too many good things about him. Death is one of the Four horsemen. Scariest ******* in the underworld, and I would gladly never meet any of deaths brothers or sisters, what ever the gender their welcome to stay away. There was a soft knock on my door, io glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already three. Warriors worked night shift basically, since thats the time most monsters like to come out.
    The victorian styled door was a black cherry carved wood, with a ancient symbols carved in so no evil spirit couls cross into my apartment, so I wasnt worried any monster was at my door. But I was suprised to see Cameron when I opened the door. Cameron and I used to work the nights together until he'd gone off and gotten married to Sylvia, who was a vampire. Vampires were only considered monsters when they didnt follow the rules. No feeding off of unwilling people, only donors, and they couldnt go around killing people. Their biggest rule though was not to tell any human what they were, Warriors like me had a lot of people to execute.
   "Cameron, never thought I'd see you around here anymore," just as I was talking to him I realized, Cameron looked scared and desperate. Unlike someone who spent his life killing evil monsters that were twice the size of him. " What's wrong Cameron?" He shook his head and walked past me, through the door and into the living room. "It's Sylvia, Theon please help me," Camerons voice was going all thick and his eye's all watery. This was deffinetly something bad. " Tell me, what has happened with Sylvia?" I needed Cameron in his most focused form to help me out, but as I looked at the shaking man I knew he was beyond that. " You remember the king vampire we took down to save Sylvia?" Cameron said quitely, but I knew instantly what vampire he was talking about. That vampire had killed Abelia. I quickly swept that from my mind and focused back on Cameron. " Yes I remember, "  I had no idea where Cameron was going with this. " You remember his brother than, the one that got away, he said that we would both pay. He, ah, made you pay that day. I never thought that he would carry out with his threat. He kidnapped Sylvia, and Sylvia is pregnant, " Cameron almost lost it right there.
    I never thought that, pip squeak of a vampire had it in him, but he was smart and possesed powers we hadn't known about until we had come across them. Their king that we had slayed, had been capturing girls of all species and abusing them in such barbaric ways.
We had to put an end to his affairs, and we did but his brother wasn't too happy about it. He'd done one of his tricks and manifested behind Abelia and snapped her neck. Everything for me had stopped, all I could hear was the blood in my veins. I didn't breath, I could still remember the deafining roar I had unleashed as my monster had gripped me, took the reins and killed all of the mans servants.
Blood had bathed the walls that night, not even the crickets dared to sing. The sun rose late that morning, and I sat inside this very apartment, on that very couch, and cried. For the very first time, I had cried until my eye's swelled shut, until my throat could bare no more. Until I passed out.
    "We'll get them back Cameron, don't worry. For now get some rest, we'll start investigating later tonight, I have meeting to attend," I was going to **** that ******* when I found him. He had taken my only love from me, and he would pay this time, I would make that absoultely certain. Cameron nodded and headed for the door. It was a long way back to his house, and he crossed quite a few bridges. I didn't want him making any bad decisions, " Cameron you can crash here, I have a guest room your welcome here man," I say casually so he doesn't get all prideful. He stops and looks at me for a moment then nods " Yeah, thanks man, and also thank you for agreeing to help me on this I know it's a bit of a touchy subject for you, just know i appreciate it." He made his way down the hall, I listened for the soft click of the door shuting before i went to leave.
    I grabbed my coat, and the keys to my Ducatti and ducked out the door. The hallway was long and at the end of it was two flights of srairs, I lived on the third floor. My motorcycle was parked right were I left it, it was a beauty. Black and red sleek metal and nice leather seats. I loved the bike so much I had named her Racer. I loved to drive fast, and so did she. I tore off out of the parking lot and listened to the purr of her engine on the way to Rowan's , my boss, office. It wasnt to far, but I wasn't in a rush either so i took the long road just to stall. I knew Rowan planned on giving me a partner. Probably some ****** that didnt know his way around a swiss army blade, let alone a sword. Warriors didnt use guns unless absoultely necessary. I loved the feel of my sword slicing through the air. I didn't, however, enjoy the noisy bang of a gun. A sword was like another limb, you have to trust it to take you were you need to go.
    Rowan's office light was on, and I could make out the form of three bodies. Great, I knew it, Rowan was going to assign me a partner.
I hated partners, the only one I'd ever slightly enjoyed had been Cameron. I got off my bike, patted the seat for good luck, and made my way into Rowans office. When I pulled open the door I was ready to yell at Rowan for even thinking of giving me a partner, instead i dropped my hand off the doorknob. " *******," was all I coluld say. I was stunned to silence.

I start feeling life leaving my body,
Realize my throat runs dry,
See my veins running empty,
Feel the tears coming out my eyes.


I loose balance, legs go weak,
Fall on my knees,
Feel how my heart slowly stops beating,
Know that my mind is going sick.


The chilling air rushing through my skin,
The cold knife cutting through my tissues,
I start to feel this thing called pain,
And I hope you never feel it as I do.


But there is love.
Something stronger than death itself,
Something that runs faster than blood,
Or water in a rainy day.

Strong enough to give me life,
Strong enough to give me pain,
Strong enough for me to fight,
Strong enough to give me death.

So I remember her face,
Remember her smile,
Remember her lips,
Forget about her lies.

And its the same strenght
Which makes me fight,
Which makes me realize
no matter how long the lenght,
If its for her, if its for love,
The road is always worth to take.

Its for love why I stand up now,
It is for love why I know death better than life,
And it is for love that my spirit will forever stay alive!
Because for love, you may cut through my skin, flesh, and bone
But your knife stops there,
When it reaches to my soul.

the sting of winter
doesn't hurt
the pines
anymore
when the
snowflakes
touch the
forest floor
the strenght
of the pines
hold on
to their
cones
once more

the flower
said
to the
sun
your light is
my strenght
my hope
and
my courage
than comes
the
sweet blue rain
again

What's going on?!

With these beautiful dark women bleaching their skin and hiding their features.
Reaching to a point of shame from these beautiful creatures.
They don't believe what the bible says, so they're their own preachers.
While God designed them to be beautiful queens,
living the unachieved dreams of their african ancestors.

Daughters of Africa, daughters of slaves.
Free in the physical, but mentally chained.
Darkened by the morning sun.
Brightened by the evening moon.
A smile that captivates homeless hearts.
A strenght that fascinates hopeless minds.

Dear beautiful black woman,
Know who you are.
Black is beautiful. Black means strong.
Skin tone that matches the earth.
Curves that catches the eye.
Walk like a goddess and talk like a queen.
When you enter a room
let your appearance speak, let your presence prophesy:
"I'm worthy, I'm proud and I'm beautiful"

Last night in high fever in midle of night
A dream i have dreamed - so clear and so bright!
In a blaze of glory a castle I've seen
A place where my eyes could never have been.

The purpose of these astonishing walls
And up to the sky - almighty towers
Were, it came out to know  very soon,
For a marvelous princess - a kind of cocoon.

Yes she was the princess
And all was for her
With courage and fearless
Her life was smoother.

But as she grew up she started to notice
That this lovely castle might be just a hospice
A place where she  couldn't and wasn.t herself
A place where she was a book on a shelf.

The king was a great man -
All people knew that
In finding a blame in this man was in vain
Cause all of the efforts secced they may not

He was her salvation
He was her delight,
He showed how she's gorgeous
What means to be loved,
How not to be angry
Her daddy have showed

But there was a problem
A terrible one
The voice of her mother
Was like of a swan.
That means she was quite a little too much
A silence the princess could hear and could touch.

The queen was adored, respected by people
For her mighty knowledge
And power to teach.
But this little princess
Wanted to be listened
And not to receive her lessons or speech.

It.s easy to talk and preach like a prophet
When silence is all your children can hear
That.s why our beauty
Pushed up by the courage
From this famous castle
She will dissapear.

"Today is the day" went out in a moan
This calm four words whisper
Inside was a storm

A storm of frustration,
Of fear and of guilt
In her head of child
A plan she had built.

She took her white horse
Her favourite one
That flew like the wind
Like this it.s begun

"The worst's the begining"
 She said in her hat
Now here on this white horse
 She understands that.

The plan was ambitious, well structured  and good
To go in the woods as much as she could
To walk, to run, to fly if she can
Til' she sees no more a foot of a man.

Now princess is free like a dove in the skye
Towards new adventures she's ready to fly
Cause heavens are with her whetever she goes
Thinking she is lucky from eyebrows to toes.

But here it will come a junction or so
And the little princess didn.t know where to go.
She's asking her horse for a wise quick advice
When this one responded without thinking twice:

 -Tell me jolly princess, where do you want to go?
- An honest response to your question would be "I don.t know"
- Then pardoned might be my humble response,
'n this case don.t matter the road you will choose!

That.s why i like having smarter than me
A friend that besides me appears to be.
And if one day i may stumble and fall
He's there to sustain and listen my call.

The days went by, then months as  years
The princess was passing from joy into tears
She felt all alone, forgotten and lost
The rainbow of dreams was covered by frost.

-Tell me my horsy, cause in your words i find gain,
What is the reason for all of this pain?
- Maybe so you would pray for strenght!
- And what is the reason for the strenght?
-Maybe so you would not lose hope!
- And what is the reason for the hope?
- Just so you could face the world!

Child, the time has come for you to fly
Just like an eagle on the sky
And use ur instinct as your guide
That navigates through  pathes you glide.
You where made do have the greatest flight!

For sure they'll find you all those monsters
That drags you back from where go
Don.t listen them, cause they are lying
"You'll never make it" is their motto.

But the voice of truth tells you a different story!
The voice of truth says
"Do not be afraid"
It says again
"You are a child of glory!"
So keep on running,
'Till you reach the end!"

Then i woke up and all was gone
The horse, the princess,
Me alone.
But i am sure that outside there
The princess is indeed somewhere
Enthusiastic, brave and strong
Looking in this world all along
A comfort place to call it home.

LORD,
I cry my heart out to YOU
Every day and every night.
Can YOU hear me?
Are YOU still listening?
I feel so alone.
Unheard.
Not seen.
As if YOU left me
LORD.
YOU promised to never leave my side.
Remember YOUR promise.
Hear my prayer O GOD
As I cry out to YOU
In the midst of all this pain and sorrow.
Open the heavens
Accept my plea.
Let me feel YOU surround me
Let me feel YOUR warmth again.
LORD I need you!
YOU are all I've got.
YOU are my strength and hope
On what I lean on.
Don't let me feel alone.
Because I'm so hurt, cold and tired.


“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.”
(‭‭Psalms‬ ‭18:2‬ ‭KJV‬‬)

i want you to remind me
how the moon and the stars above
glance and hides how shy they were
whenever your voice soothes the trees and living creatures, reverberating the paradox of joy and sadness in your giggle

i want you to remind me
how the ends will never be the means of loving and that saturating my soul with your presence is more than i could ever receive, a reality unmet with circumstances of chains upon ourselves

i want you to remind me
how long it would take to consume the universe on your palm or the life in one single breath, or the night with a hymn that lights up my way home

i want you to remind me
of remembering goodbyes and hellos
the mellow sound of now and the agonizing tomorrow swifting its way to uncanny sound of laughter and sniffed tears

i want you to remind me
that there are more to life than we ever thought of: death, absence, nothingness

i want you to remind me
that i could always see the mirror of myself in your brushed short hair, chapped lips and past you never left behind, just the like the songs i've made to remind how unusual semblance of people unites hearts and eventually tear them apart

i want you to remind me
of the days where i loved deeply and without hesitation or fear of falling behind or the anxiety of losing what i never had in the first place

i want you to remind me of the days like this
where the smile in my face meant the world, home, and happiness from your single hello or the way you tilt your head and stare and smile and laugh or when your cheeks blush and swims together with the universe in your eyes and the waters deeply engraved in your fingers how the waves strum the music in your spirit and soul

how i want you to remember,

the way i will remind you:

i will remind you of how i love seeing you mess around and make everyone happy, your vain and cuddly smile behind the tint of the sun, along the banquets of academics and artists

i will remind you of how assured i was that you were whom i prayed for to a nonexistent deity of the wind and beauty; how i wished to feel its rush as i roam around, and steep-down the wheels, continuously weighing down unafraid of a valley of morality and questions

i will remind you of the philosophy of the meaninglessness of existence and how life was never the meaning but pain of waiting for death; you made it bearable and the ample grace of your heart is what i'll keep to my future journeys of seeking what i would trade for life itself enduring the morning commutes and cruelty of mischievous eyes

i will remind you of the day i saw you, and how tall you stand as me or how shy i was whenever i was in front of the crowd, but most of the time you give me the strenght to brush off what everyone would say

i will remind you of the day, and the days to come
i will not ask for more or less, it will be enough, and i hope with that, i will be enough, and i, hope you would always remind me #

Here I am sitting, hurting and aching.
I am Jealous indeed

I am Jealous because,
You showed me value but you suddenly took it away.

I am Jealous because my love was ignored
I am Jealous because I gave my all,
and I couldn't convice you of my love.

I couldn't convince you,
that I love you.

I am Jealous because you yelled on me with anger and rage
and the next, a photo with you smilling.

I am Jealous for I could not trace logically,
For I could not see the source of your hatred.

Deeper than your hatred for me,
There's a reason why,
There's a reason that you blinded yourself to my good deeds.
That you saw none of which i gave you that was good.
Love, time, strenght, service, you saw none of these,
In your rage you only saw my folly, in which is not even valid to say.

I am Jealous, for you say you loved me,
yet another you said you never did.
and yet you said you can lie to hurt me.

Which one is true. I am torn.

I am Jealous that my small mistakes are drilled through my being
While their's, they are justified beyond all senses.

I am Jealous, because you made me feel special,
you made me feel like I am no other,

I am Jealous because you convinced me you'll never leave me
Yet now, like a nobody, in which you threw away.

Perhaps I may assume the best from you,
that you threw me away, because you wanted my heart safe.
Because, I brought out the monster in you.

How is that, I do not know...
All I knew was that I loved you with a sincere heart

I am constraint
In a constraint body
I move from thought to thought
race  between a permanent
solitude
I hear a screaming voice
and it´s my own
She´s screaming out my own
deepest   secrets
Who  did I tell my  shame?
If not you
You keep me, in a confinement
locked in among my frustrated fears
morbidly amused by their strenght
I  stay in here.
Where else  would I go
If  not   back to you.

There's a fae
Who lives in a fern.
Her wings so little,
Her feet so kittle.

She was a tease,
But certainly not the least.
She flits through the grass,
With a skimpy dress of brass.

She hides in the shrub,
And offers a defiant shrug.
Her whistles beckons to the birds,
Even the goblins dare leave their beds.

Her step on petals are of light springs,
Even with hair tied in ribbon strings.
Mischievous little thing she was
Other wary faes ought to pause.

So carefree she treads,
Even mama could not knot her in a thread.
Most often, mama warns and shoos
Always, she'd never heed but coos.

One moon-ful night,
When she forgot her plight,
Into the sky, unwarily she soars,
And ends up torn in the bellies of owls.

With all her strenght did she beat
But the night birds had had their bits!
A mournful dirge for a fae no bigger than a wasp,
But who ends up dying with a gasp!

I suffer in silence
I silence my tears
my tears choke my breath
the pain hurts like death
because I'm dying
and there is no one to help

How does one carry on,
when her strenght is gone?
I want to return home
but heaven has no phone
so I live another day---and die
praying to my deaf father
with my mute cries.

The village is reaching the end of eternity.
The story has been told, written, read.

Out in the borderlands,
David still
fights Goliath.

The crowd have been around them for thousands of years,
chanting names,
fists in the air,
***** angry faces.

As the chanting of his name increases,
David grows in size,
unfolding like a redwood,
gleaming tanned bark.

The crowd becomes uneasy;
a giant among them? whose children will he eat?
which maidens will he devour?

and so they begin chanting Goliath's name;
David's strenght ebbs, they're feeding Goliath with their tongues now,
as he hulks and looms more and more over the shrinking David

alas, the crowd learn their mistake,
bite their tongues,
twisting them
until they are saying "David" once more.

This fight has been going on for thousands of years.
The crowd continue blindly shouting, 'David' and 'Goliath' being the only words they have uttered for aeons

unrealising they hold the power to release themselves
from this eternal fight.

An old, frail woman sits in rocking chair.
Rocking slowly, gently, back and forth.
The floorboards beneath her creek softly.
She is dressed in black.
Hair held back with two hair clasps.

A pouch dangles from her arm.
A drawstring wrapped around her wrinkled wrist.

There is a rustle heard nearby.
A small girl appears.
Dress in white dress, with small imprints of daisies on it.
Hair tied into a braid.
Timidly she inches over to the woman.

The woman unravels the drawstring from her wrist.
She opens the pouch, and five small stone fall into her lap.

Each stone is unique in its own way.
Different sizes, shapes and textures.

The little girl is face to face with the woman.
She hands her each stone carefully, and with great care. She holds the stone and with each stone she tells her wish for the little girl

The first stone with the inscription STRENGHT.
My wish is that you have the strength to endure the past, the present, the future. To fight all the evil and conquer it in the name of good.

Next comes CREATE
My wish is for you to create memories. Some of them good and some of them bad. To even life out. And that each bad memory you create only equals more memories that are good.

Then DREAM
My wish is that your dreams come true in your life, as well as the people around you.
Next MAGIC
My wish is that your days been filled with magic, both unreal and real. Both created by you, and created by other people around you.

Finally WISH
My wish is that these wishes as well as many others to come your way. Also, that each wish is better then the last one.

The little girl admires the stones.
The woman opens the pouch and picks each stone one at a time, and places them in the pouch.
The woman hands the pouch to the little girl and says “For safe keeping”

The little girl smiles and runs out the door.
Giggles are heard.
The woman continues to rock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TO­ SMILE BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE DOES :) IS:

- An act of anarchy, especially if you don't have any teeth :D

- Because all beings are blessed Bees
  
- Certain sign of cretenism or genuine Charm

- Denominative sense of digestion is Disturbing

- Ethically wrong Endeavor

- Fascinating and freeking fabulous if you intend to F. . .  

- Gorgeous as Geometry

- Hot on Hotties

- Imature and implies lack of Integrity

- Jibberish

- Keen rediscovering so many Keens or Kens
    
- Lovely on Lovely ones (once)

- Magnificent Mimicry

- Negating the jokers(or your own) inteligence / numb is Numb

- Onthological urge to survive among jungle beasts - fangs are
   quintessential urban asset. .or. . Smile-The-Power-Wilder-Open      

- Pertinent in Parliament

- Quiet resistance behind a cold minded rebellions league - quitting in few minutes  kicking some mthf harassing ****** pervert - to hard Quiver

- Real lovely strenght to feel and see each other happy  

- Stupid on jokes = Joke Stupid  

- Tactics to climb up the social ledder or/end further down the Thongs

- U can't admit you didn't get it; u2

- Violation of virtues as (in vino) Veritas

- Wonderful! To see people happy is healthy, positive and Wise!  

- X times better than being in low energy

- You love your beloved and you are loved by your beloved love

- Zooming at the ' zoo' of human behaviour -
    Amusing as Zorro-Art-Is-MusssssssssseumZ

Come dream with me my love,
Feel what it's like to be young and alive once again.

I know there are dragons and fire and chains,
and the tower you're in has become home and you feel safe in there.

But it's still a prison that holds you,
and I know how you cry through the lonely nights,
and I know all your princes deserted you,
and I know that hope has laid you bare.

How I long to fight for you.

I know I'm only a poor boy,
and I have all my own demons still to face.

But I want to build you a castle of comfort,
a free place where you can wake up to my smile.

I hate the scars they've left on your heart,
and the way the crushed your wings.

I know your strenght is weak my love,
I just need you to say yes and to take my hand.

Endlessly... we fall...
connecting through
cognetive strenght as we
endeavor the practice of
never looking back...
trembling hands
reaching out for
intricate parts of reality...
concerned... we fall...

Positive emotions dance happily
as morning mist turns into droplets that
run down the side of your face like tears
and I rejoice while we
climb as
high as can be,
up into the sky, over the clouds - over the sea
time slows down... stops...
endlessly... we fly!

Freefalling ... waiting for the wacky 'chute to open
Falling further and further away from the ground
silently ... without a sound ... we rise

As Cummings reminds us, death was never a parentheses,
or a question, or a way of leaving,
but mostly, an intimacy between this world and another.
Consider Caesar, and how he never asked why, or got angry,
or held it against him,
but instead looked up at Brutus with all the strenght that
could come from a dying heart, and said
"You too, my child?"

Some things are even too much for our world to hold.
Even war shows us that once it's over, you can never let any of it stay with you, and happiness works just like that too.
And now, even as you read this,
knowing that the most beautiful of things rarely ever repeat themselves,
you wrote to her saying
"I am still afraid of feeling so alive in a world
that never keeps anything forever"
but it does keep everything forever.
it takes all that it knows,
and puts it in people and we just look for the ways that will keep all of it alive.
And remember how when we die,
the body flushed rigomortus,
will cause the hand to cling to the last thing in its grip.

You could've left, honestly I wouldn't have blamed you.

You could've left, but you didn't.

Instead you drew your sword, fully armoured.

Alongside with me you fought.

Slayed my demons one by one.

When my strenght ran out you held the frontline.

I see you rise and fall, only to rise again.

You fight and you bleed, for me.

My best friend, know that I'm always ready.

Ready to fight for you, I'll slay 'till my last breath.

For you.

I love you my swordsman.

Sipping Red Wine
With
Disciplined disciples
Dining
With minds alike
Best friends,
Next of kin
I repent
For my sins
Then
Hug my worst enemy
As she
Kisses me
On the cheek...

"Here's my toast,
A final cheer"
I raise
Out my chair
Hold my glass
In the air
Final words spoken
In red
"Momento Mori
Remember the Alive
Soon becomes Dead!"
Lips stained
And wiped
With bread
My Body
And Blood
Portrays
The art
Of Me
Spilling my heart
As I talk
Of My Final walk

Remembered
For ages to come
The pages will turn
As nuns
Thumb
Through my revelations
Revealed
To show my appeal
For
Keeping it rea
lEveryone stands
Clap hands
I give the
Cue to sit
Then
Follow in suit
Before
The crucifix
Suited in an outfit
That helps
My family
Come to grips
With The Final dip
Into oblivion

Rest assure
The rest's assured
With a promised
That God keeps
Strenght
Will be
Bestowed
Upon the weak
Faith
Is best owed
To the one
Who speaks
"Let There Be Light"
And brightens
The darkness
Of life

I
Will take the pain
Of a thousand deaths
Take a thousand steps
With the wieght
Of the world on my shoulders
As I pass away
For my best freinds sins
As he watches me
Silently
Violently whipped
As blood drips
On a red shirt
Tye dyed
From the wine I sipped
The night before

I died

Fooling clouds cross my view
passing hurts and pleasures.
Blue on white on white on blue
'till black has broken through.

I dreamt that it
finally died last night,
that it was truely over.

Waves of guilt and fear
to carry me away
until I could see no longer
that place where I started from
and I no longer knew
that place I was headed to.

Now,
I gather stones
for my tomb,
while with willfull eyes
study my peers,
lips pursed tight
they have closed their hearts,
closed up tight
to my falling tears.

Yes,
it is I,
it is me, I cry,
feeling condemed
by the unspoken lie.
A lie to weigh heavy
on my bent back body.

Heavy as Christ's cross
responsible for all souls lost.

Then,
I stumble
and I fall
as I carry the burden upwards
to Golgotha of the skull.

If to think
is to act
then burning
after the crash,
the fire's glow
brings forth
the desire to let go.

Letting go,
why does it have
to be so
hard    to come by.
leaving me so
hard      done      by.

A selfish act,
done not from class,
no more from strenght
than from a weakness.

An action out of chaos
in the absence of bliss.

The ShadowLand,
where grief clings
to my name
and to their person,
asking of today
to stride
with a limp,
and of yesterday,
to crawl and beg.

Forgiveness
would be
the task in hand.

A ticket for
some far
and distant shore.

Safe passage away
from ShadowLand.

Bent,
but not broken,
while the pain
of its death
runs deep.

Not until
hatred is spent
and words
of kindness
are spoken
will forgiveness
be complete.

Only one way to forgive,
that would be, completely.

Only one way to live,
that would be completely.

Anything less
misses the mark,
comes from the head
and not from the heart.

And so it remains
that for me to be free,
I stand at the threshold
of forgiveness
and stand ready
to turn the key.....

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