why do I within many of my dreams seem to lock doors
that refuse to remain shut?
  
why must one follower always wither in a dream
why must old friends appear as Judas Iscariot
as tear drops falling down from their faces as rain

I once thought that I understood beauty
yet I could never comprehend it fully
the beauty in this world is only a shadow of things
that I have never seen

when I look into your face
all I can see is beauty my old friend
but as i close my eyes and daydream
all I can see is one follower
withered to an unappealing
dust in my cold brown hands
this triggers me to relax
in the end
a fall breeze will blow it all way
i once looked into blue eyes
i once stared into the atmosphere of fall

yet reflections of my life
will bring me back to old times

Here I lie
A day dream vagabond
and made from dust
the smell of burned roses
you could never understand
my hidden language
the composition of silence

as dust, I am forever blown away
never to be understood in time
between honor and integrity
what do you have to barter?

I was once  every Sunday
I was once every black and white
Photo you have meaningfully forgotten
I was once the fondness of a beautiful song
I was something you could never contain
here, falling all around you as it would rain
the smell before rain
heart and soul
to never comprehend me

I was once a delusional man
my daydreams were make believe
you were so beautiful to me
your words would befuddled me
the sound of your voice
would make me lament
I would shiver away
each time you would speak
the sound of your voice
was once frightening to me
how much could a human endure
I  felt as a slave
with his eyes looking
to the dust of the Earth
your beauty was alluring
as a simple smile
your smooth lips
were also distracting
as her truthful lies
With her false beauty
viewed by all to see
I knew she was only
a wolf in sheep's clothing clean
yet forever you'll still be beautiful to me
a sweet melody
the sound of your words
are a burden to me
full of feeling
they make my heart
to ache with true joy
I need shelter from your eyes

Walk away...
and fade into silence
don't let their abomination get to you
fallow the good shepherd
walk away
you were always misunderstood
keep the resistance
they are afraid of him
the act of defiance
to Pontius Pilate
the act of defiance
to the world
could they ever
walk as this
it's not for all
sometimes the silence
is your only friend
his footsteps
the sanctuary of Christ
the sanctuary of life
sometimes when your standing on a bridge
while leaning over to watch the river
slipping slowly away beneath you
daydreams appear
and questions surround you
from the echo chambers within your soul
look at them, The quiet ones
they are very odd to most humans
they fade into silence
without tension, with inter peace
do you want to walk this way
It's not for all
watch them fade into
the silence of a shadow

Hello, dear sweet friend of mine

Hello, dear beautiful friend of mine

I do not remember when we

First began our friendship

You once came as a fall breeze

From the west lands of the moon

Your long brown hair was always

A shield or mask to hide your

Expressions of ****** emotion so timidly

And it was your shield of fortification

Softly so often you would tell me stories

Of a man you had once loved that was frozen in time

But that was never unusual of you to speak of him

Your lips were always full of nostalgia

Give me a slight smile alluring

And i'll put it into my cold keepsake box

In the fall cold air

Your breath comes out as white clouds

Hanging as artificial wall flowers

I'm a quiet and simple human being

Yet my experience is always underfed

And limited of keeping my mouth shut

You have a cat meowing sound effect as kittens

Existing as a result of birth

The first seconds they were born

We both understand what memories can bring

Standing there with our brown eyes

And tears of ice falling all around us

leaves seem to always be in our hair

When we are together here and there

I miss the masquerade of shadows.Those days as cold as ice.Who am I? I'll never know, nor understand when they would speak to me.Their hidden faces would always confess within a twilight hour ,and just late of spring.There, and so dear to midnight ,are the monarch butterlies and milkweed plants.They have an eloquent look of beauty , but without souls to ever ponder any disappointment of human loneliness. There was once a strangers confession of June.

All they have is silence
An appearance of kindness to share
They haven't any charm
They are the undocumented
As nomadic shadows
A differing markedly
From the usual, ordinary, or unaccepted

With a lack of knowledge
Others only see a cold soul
With a sad face
You hum your song
And daydream all day
But there is no way
To ever return from past days

No one has ever given
A shadow, breeze, nor
Whisper anything
There isn't anything to give

You were very wise
To just pass us by
We were only
Dreamily cold souls
With no stories to tell
If they would only smile
They have no charm

You all were so wise
And never the foolish
To just pass us by
Were we ever temporary
Such people full of passion?
They, the park bench people