We receive this blessing of whats called a life.
By all means, inhale it's beauty.
Live each day with reckless intentions.
But beware and rebuild your catastrophic paths.
Take your mistakes as a gift and learn from them.
Cause karma like always, make's its rounds.
The stereo type  perspective of life is obvious.
Enjoy the sun's radiant rays and own the heat.
Don't be normal.
Keep people guessing on the edge of their seat.
Because in reality, those who follow and are normal,
are force to
crumble.
Let your beauty make your foes stumble.
Hate is a weak emotion.
So never show it, but loath it.
Let your heart go and feel its motion.
But a broken heart, i really can not explain that emotion.

Decency is very  immaculate.
Yet these women lack it.
Showing so much skin that the men can probably taste it.
These men  insinuate women into *** objects.
But pushing them
to become a despised icon.
Now a days reputation seems to be the stereo type.
Males are pigs waiting to be slaughtered.
Girls will rant consistently about how they use and manipulate them.
Yet you live up to being a back porch baby,
as well show off those curves anonymously for lustful eyes.
False alarms wont save them. Cause they burn their own bridges.
Yet others wear  their pride
and keep what most are not aware of, which is class.
Women who stay loyal to the core and Share their soul with nothing but a Heart full of
ravishing intentions are indeed very rare.
Beauty that would petrify you were you are standing.
A delightful dream
that you're scared you will wake up and suffer society's standards of a female.
The lesson of this is nice guys finish last.
My amazing charm and mentality of a gentlemen is ignorantly ignored.
Nothing but remorse can be felt with this situation with them.
Sorry that they will never feel the vibrations
of the overrated word named "love".
Things that would make Hester Prynne disgusted.
But in all words,
my sail with no compass will not be over.
The storms might get heavy periodically, but then the waves will sail properly in my favor.
My search will be fulfilled
So on this long sail I'll never acknowledge these indescent
sirens.
So when they pass  "X" will mark the spot.

.




Tolling


..


In the darkness

DEATH

GROWING

//

we sit listening

Pretend we are not hearing

The

BELLS BELLS BELLS !

""

We talk so well

Of loving !


In the graveyard

Dancing with corpses
To the tune
Of


the BELLS!

Her eyes
full of stories that need telling

Her fingers
sore from all the hands she held on to
too tightly

Her body
it trembles with every whisper
of love and lust and lies

Her name
etched on their minds even after they lost her

Her hips
these mountains that call them

Her soul
a temple they swore they'd worship

Her secrets
these are what's left of her
and yet she writes
too honestly, too often

Her poetry
this is how you
fix her