

In The EndThe moon rises, High, Into the morning sky. It is not its time. The moon, Ambiguous, aIn The End
Daunting figure that Dare play against, The sun. Time remains, Irrelevant.
A constant tick, A pounding beat, Of undesirable thoughts. Lingers in time, A distorting process, As though it were Inevitable. Despite my intentions, My actions fail me And I become
The Moon.


Stand AloneI dove into The emotions which consumed me, Whole.Stand Alone
I swam down Beneath the ground I place my Feet.
I opened up In the hope that time was, Irrelevant.
The time. Sweet time corrodes the essence of Love.
But Love Remains strong with passion, Heart.
It does not Fade, but grows in the eyes of Lovers.
I float Within the cool thin water, Alive.


SmokeThe distant smokeSmoke
On the horizon Should have been a sign, And yet i still pushed on. Till the flames burned high Into the air, i breathed The thick heat of fire, Far past my desire.
The smoke rolls near. A shred of its Scent, climbs in. There is no fight. No struggle to hide The helpless feeling, Trapped, Inside forever, living.


The Little Things Still MatterThe words transume To painful memories As they crawl across The ridges of my spine.The Little Things Still Matter
Each vertebra consumed Ties another twisted knot In the tight flesh That lines my neck.
Each nerve pinched Destroys another feeling, Until I can feel Pain, no more.
Each word strikes With desperate force, And only You Seem to relate
To the constant beating, Endless rhythm of Fights, tearing
At my foundation.
Each word digs deeper Past the tissues of My heart, As deep as you can go.
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Like a pheonix we can rise from these ashes and be born again into a new life. The past will die and fall away, but the future is always there.
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You're the only one who can hold your head up high.
Shake your fist at the gates saying,
"I have come home now...!"
Fetch me the spirit, the son and the father.
Tell them their pillar of faith has ascended.
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Each man kills the thing he loves. -Oscar Wilde
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