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A Soul's Existence

Memories will now become a remaining thought as the one who departed this journey of life, the first dimension of existence, will never leave our hearts, for their faces will never be seen again, nor will their bodies come back.
What remains of them is their souls, which will always be youthful, beautiful, and free of all pain and sorrow that hurts us the most because we can't see them, but they are with us and will give us power to live on, even if it's them we lack.
We mourn and cry because we feel they are gone never to return.
That's not true, they live in us everyday, as will soon learn.

Hearts are broken, emotions are torn, and grief of what we have lost affects us each day.
But, we still live with our heads down not understanding they are holding us because we can't feel it in a certain way.
We will never let them go, and we don't have to.
We may not be able to see, hear, or feel them anymore, but they are here with us, as the good souls always do.

In the ground or ashes they live or become after all is said and done.
A rebirth of their new life has just begun.
It's not death because energy never dies; it only changes form.
They are a part of us, the Earth and everything in between dimensions that should make us take comfort in our hearts so warm.

We will never forget their existence here in this world we only know.
Sometimes, if we look closely, we can see their footprints in winter on fresh, fallen snow.
We can know what they say by them showing us a sign.
They're always watching us, and they're always knowing more of us and will interfere to keep us in line.

Forever missed as we walk forever to live our story.
Forever memories we'll have of them, that will make their souls sing glory.
We may see them again; we may not, nor will we really remember all the things that were shared.
It's alright to place flowers, wreaths, and candles on their stone mantles or urns placed on shelves for memorandums of the ones who are gone we cared.

Cursed

She never walked down the narrow aisle toward the wooden box where he lies to place a rose on his lifeless torso to pay her respects to him over hard feelings amongst others, and the whispers she would hear behind her back if she would walk passed the mourners who pointed their fingers.
She never went to his home built of stone at the top and him living underneath the dirt to visit him as she's built with rage, sadness, and confusion, but she knows his spirit lingers.
She can't face the truth that he's entered her dreams during her slumbers to give her messages of love and guilt, for she turned her back on him, leaving him helpless and tortured, as she could not help him on his afterlife journey that he's most likely facing the worst.
Uncertain what the conclusion is that's demented her mind and life ever since his passing, making it hard for her to live happy and free as she feels he's cursed.

It hasn't been long since he crossed the lines of dimensions into other worlds that only he can have the power from his maker to be forgiven for that commitment of the ultimate sin.
She couldn't help him even if she wanted to because of this, as he floats around in this world as other moved on without him living their lives and picking up the pieces he caused to start again.
He left her dreams in time once he realized she could be no help to him, and his spiritual revenge of rage begins to burst.
He left making sure she was as miserable as him, still, so her life and mind will be cursed.

She couldn't cry, she couldn't say good-bye.
In tears always pouring down her face, for what he did to put her in her place.
For turning her back with no choice, she wants him to hear her voice.
To stop torturing her for the guilt of what she couldn't do; his decision was not her fault, but he still points the fingers too.
Now she's trying to live the life she always wanted, and she does not want a free ride in a hearse.
All she wants him to do in exchange for her deepest apologies is to free her from this curse.

Starvation and Soul Death

Not even a glass of wine can soothe our souls for we are lost anyway.
The same routines of our dull, boring lives doing the same nothings everyday.
As we walk the miles in a long time waiting for our turn to jump into the meat grinder of the end.
As for some people should hold on to love in their hearts cause any day could be our day to no longer defend.

Walking up the steps of fate, some are good and some are bad.
Past loves we once had or regretted having can be a faded memory when we're with the ones who make us glad.
An ache to be loved by the mystery someone who doesn't understand sentiment, compassion, and touch so dear.
In the hearts of our feelings we feel, we see death, when we deeply crave for some type of love, and we die without as into the flesh we carve very near.

Abuse and neglect is how those only know in order to satisfy their power and control.
In tears we grow confused into the distress hole into we roll.
The dirt covers us into a new life only to be judged before we move on to the next phase.
Love in life can be all we have or all we need to feel that kind of praise.

When we starve for that certain type of love, it turns painful and the soul itself will die and begin to fester.
When we request for some type of attention, it seems like we are a pester.

Soul's Rattlesnake Bite

A man of what many would shun as the unknown kneels beside the weakened, fading woman chanting blessings while The Medicine Man is standing in front of her blowing out smoke to surround the wound on her soul that possessed her like a vicious rattlesnake bite ejaculating venom in her veins as the poison rushes quickly to her heart.
As she's lying in blood and sweat, weak from the oozing release of her bodily fluids wanting to move, but her catatonic mind has froze her to use force while she's tearing apart.
She can faintly hear the moaning, howling echoes of the man's voice, but the poison that traveled to her heart and into her soul could only make her taste liquid salt from what was streaming from the sides of her eyes.
Disoriented from her visions of who she is and what she wants to be that, in reality, it hurts her to live it in disguise.

The smoke grew thicker as she could not see anything but use of the mortal senses she had.
To understand everything she needed to know as of this moment beginning from how she got the rattlesnake bite to where she can still get back what she once made her glad.
A choice she feels uncertain and unable to make because she doesn't feel strong enough and confident enough because she's mostly been anti-social and highly introverted, yet intimidated by the people in the real world where she is aware she lives.
Her trust has began to turn to stone a little as she has felt the clumps of blood mold like concrete hardening in her heart that is full of compassion, caring, kindness, and respect that pumps out only thin blood, all this muscle gives.

Her eyes began to close from fear because she could not see what she was feeling deep inside, she knew she had to face what dark forces confine her for being so reserved.
It's as if another part of her has awakened from years of being preserved.
Asleep came to be her setting as she finds herself sitting on a mountaintop close to the starry skies and a bright, full moon nearly shining down on her that glowed her shadings of her hazel eyes.
She can breathe in the crisp, cool air and feel the warm, gentle breeze hugging her with comfort and love that for the first time, she didn't feel breathless and the painful chest cries.

Black and gray clouds started to appear in the sky as flashes of lightning came down and struck inches away from her where she was standing, and the teardrops of the spirits downpoured waterfalls to cleanse the broken wounds from the weakness and sadness they felt into this woman for the spirits knew she had talent and power.
It told her it was a message from Mother Earth as the woman always listens with devoted and attention and with no fear and no need to cower.
It was a wake up call to her because the message she recieved is a dying need to make the changes and do what she intends to do to make herself happy, be an open-minded friend and listen without passing any judgement or discriminate others for who they are, what they believe in, and for being themselves in expressing themselves, and to express an opinion in a kind and witty way.
She's seeing the storms clear up but no sunlight, just the gloominess and dreariness of a dull, ordinary day.
When all she sees are clear skies with colors of gray that's laying over the sun that wants to come out but doesn't seem to want to today.

But, again, the sunshine also blinds the woman's eyes from the bright glow because it is too much light for her, and it doesn't make her smile either.
She's on a small dog leash, and is afraid to bust loose to surround herself with nature by herself with some wine and let the sun bathe her a little, breath in natural, clean air of pure  cedar, pine, lavendar with the air carrying the sweet smell of tree leaves, that most people find sappy and name us tree-huggers or freaks when that is not it at all, all this woman wants to do is be free, she feels she can't do that neither.
Being free reminds her how there are still beautiful things in this wasteful, sad, sick, useless, cruel planet we live in, but it is mystifying on the simple things like the plants, birds, animals, and the breeze makes her thankful for sometimes opening her eyes to see.
That even people, despite who they are, how they feel, and have a limit and conscious, still carry that beauty.
She knows she has been wronged, and has turned the cheeks and took the beatings of all sorts, most of her life, and she can't allow it no more for she is beaten down and can barely stand up, probably the moment the rattlesnake bit her that infected her soul, what an aching plea.

She is still going to find her people and keep her people she finds beautiful and fascinating by saying or giving the small gestures to let them know she is a friend by laughter, their beliefs, their talents, their morals, and their creativity, and for being themselves, and she will share her all to find and keep these people is her goal.
As she awoke, she wasn't familiar where she was or what was going on, and she was still hazy about who she is as a whole.
The man introduced himself as a Shaman and beside him The Medicine Man as she was stronger to rise up and drink from their bowl.
The Shaman told her a story about a girl in his tribe getting bit by a rattlesnake that made her ill and nearly destroyed her soul and mind.
He told her how the Shaman before him had rescued her, in the same way this Shaman rescued the woman, as that tradition and belief has been passed down since their mankind.

As the Shaman spoke of the little girl, she was a victim of her own shame and pain as she was tormented and hurt by others while a rattlesnake entered her dreams and bit her soul because the girl of his people was not watching where she was stepping and ran into trouble she couldn't get out of.
The little girl of the Shaman's people has had enough and froze becoming possessed by the tortured spirits making her deeply sad, angry, dissatisfied, and all the empty feelings that lie above.
Explained by the Shaman, he claimed he saved the woman from the self-torture and the possession, and the poison inside her soul so she don't lose herself or her life.
She has just began to understand she has alot of hurt and healing that caused her strife.

She began to see her purpose and what she can do for now to be herself, and entertain others who really care as she slowly rises out of the bed to walk out of the village and walk toward the lake.
She removed her blood, sweat soaked clothing and slowly walked in the body of water nude taking in what body of water nature is offering her as each wet dip is purifying every part of her bare skin in the make.
She would like to tell others "the sunshine lies within them and that we're all rattlesnake bit in a way,"
She would like to tell others "the choice is theirs, they can make the best of what they got and be proud of who they are, or let the poison make them ill with mind dismay,"

As she wore made cloth from the villagers of the tribe as a gift, she kissed them all with a thank you and a farewell.
Off to the roads of life, some smooth, some bumpy, some sweet, and some that will smell.

The Resurrection Of QueenDeathly LoveChild

One time resided a woman with the sign of the twin fish that is known in the outside as day as those who know her the most saw she had a vast heart, her feelings of humanity were deep, thoughtful, spirited, and kind.
A woman, she was, also had a hidden side so mysterious, only few knew it, and she's been buried alive in it for so long she is beginning to bust open the concealed coffin and claw her way out of the dirt to show this side of her that also shows reserved silence for she is observant to listen to read between the lines of what is actually being said, to educate herself of the subjects most have little understanding of to analyze it a little to gain wisdom to philosophize it and advise it to others to be helpful and to entertain, but the uncaring, negative attitudes and the stubborn, biased fools put her behind.
To some, this woman has given impressions that who she was gave them a dreamy belief she could walk on water or had morals of a virgin because, as peculiar her life of erotic games and encounters were and a time she used to never say words so profane, she did try to maintain the purity heart of a virgin spiritually, with faith, and respect.
The woman never cared about the looks of a person or if they were a prince or a pauper, and she never cared about certain mistakes a person has made because she knew the person had a conscious and was remorseful and either has learned or is learning from them and that is the answer that start's a reflect.

Sometimes, the woman is firm and conservative in her beliefs for her theories of the way of life may be different from others in this complicated, cruel, shallow, heartless planet of many people in the mind blind and deaf to see and know.
But, she will always hold out her hand to anyone who feels comfortable enough around her as she's a form of Mother Earth herself to nurture, comfort, listen, and talk to those who need to vent out their pain or shoot the breeze to make those feel at home with her to give them some hope and glow.
Another side of the woman who resides in her own shadows in the deep forest has another side that is also broken, dark, mystical, deep, morbid, and full of strife building intense ire.
Her signs are of water and Earth combined, and with the power of water and Earth together, she would only explode her feelings of rage into words instead of actions because she doesn't have the guts to start another powerful element that may be hard to but out, which is fire.

She loves to wear black, for she feels all colors have meaning, and black to her wards off all negativity, cleanses the negative thoughts of bad conscious thoughts coming from her dark side, and it reveals mystery and uniqueness of a soul.
A woman with a fondness of candles and mirrors to look into herself to enhance the inner beauty and heart and bring out the qualities of her outer beauty while gaining personal power from her Higher Power with a small prayer and ritual are just a simple goal.
Her name goes by QueenDeathly LoveChild, for she is the Queen of her own castle of dark, morbid thoughts of giving up hope sometimes and tempted thoughts of pain infliction on others, but in truth a dog only just bark and no bite, at least not too hard.
She is also a ruler of another castle of love, honor, devotion, compassion, and understanding like a nurturing Empress and welcomes anyone with open arms as a friend and to those she knows and cares about deeply that's been scarred.

QueenDeathly LoveChild is both good and bad or can be whatever a person perceives her to be without a care if she is liked or not, but she and the few that really know her know who she really is.
QueenDeathly LoveChild is returning more youthful in spirit, more pure in the heart, but will speak her mind in whatever way her mood is in for her mood changes between day periods, sometimes hours because she is her only friend these days, but she won't be hard to miss.

The Battle Of Earth Steamwater

Once, a woman who survived many hardships since childhood calls herself Earth Steamwater because her hidden side belongs to the sign of Earth, she can create fire when in fierce ire, but with her revealed sign as water, she can control putting it out to create steam to keep her kind, even-tempered, open-minded, and a friend.
She continues to travel the long, winding, bumpy, muddy, and dusty roads to fight the ultimate battle, at this time, that may save and free her soul but the battle is a fight to the death's end.
Earth Steamwater has trained herself in small levels of higher knowledge and power through entertaining others with words of feeling and wisdom and just being witty, learning about the signs of water and Earth combined and how to use the power of the elements, the gain intuition and clairvoyance to aid and answer life's questions one wants to know.
She only has the weapon of her mind despite the worn metals of armour wearing a black veil with multi-colored flower tiara crowning her head, on her left hand a sword and on her right a shield, that is all she has to show.

She had no training physically to defend herself much in all the battles she has tried to fight which was why she always got knocked down and defeated.
Now she's on her own to learn simple tactics of violent force if more hurt is repeated.
Earth Steamwater's long, black hair flowed in the wind as she removed her veil showing what little pride she had left, and her pale, painted face of dark colors looked up to the skies while she takes a deep breath to prepare and handle herself for the match she has to defeat that she blocked out for so long.
A simple thing given to others in small gestures through self-expression with words of descriptions that speak the truth and have empathy that she wants them to hear it and understand it like a song.

As a pre-teen, young lady Earth was taught wrongfully how to battle painful battles, that broke her to pieces, by maintaining imagination and silence.
She was also taught to do nothing as she felt her Higher Power would have a plan for the wronged done to her and the punishment would be way more severe than violence.
One day, Earth Steamwater grew into a woman, and after all these years, she has been a slave to the wrong masters, a self-sacrificer for the sake of peace because of the consequences of torture and humiliation she felt while all of this and some things are happening to her, and she sacrificed herself to please the tortured themselves as they smelled weakness on her and knew she feared the worst.
She realized her mistakes of failure to fight out of frozen fear, but she chose not to because of shame and public humiliation because Earth feels that when she is close to finding one of the things that is missing in her life, it becomes cursed.

Many other insane, treacherous battles were kept being thrown at Earth Steamwater like falling stars shooting in random formations and suddenly she lost her powers and became weak like a real, unhappy, mortal, ordinary being.
She had to learn from the masters of people who live square and dull lives, and had to learn on her own the more better and interesting methods in her mind to train her slowly so she can start seeing.
She sacrificed leaving what she once knew only to become strangers in the long run as the faces you have seen and knew become faces in the crowd eventually someday, eventhough she despised the whole area of what she called home because of the constant hardship battles she could not win causing her bad memories and those that were closest to her have all gone away.
Depressing, deep, painful scars from long time broken hearts, veiled feelings, broken promises, lies, deception, and sodomy without the masochism of not only of the mind and heart, but the pride as well stays inside her because there were some that were her people and she misses them everyday.

Earth laid around on the ground sedated with medications that only calmed her down to a degree where she could barely feel and did not want to see and hear but sleep away, although the same old feelings danced in her dreams.
She served her time in a village of rehabs, therapy, and she did not agree to alot of their theories on handling herself by talking to a group of people she hardly knew and was forced up to no choice but to live in a home with other who needed more help for Earth knew she did not belong there in the first place and the resentful tears pour down her face baring hard feelings ripping at the seams.
She tried to live the happier life by trying to settle down, get married, be a homemaker, and be the best wife she could be.
The plan blew up in her face like dynamite and their partnership did not survive one year due to his preferences of the erotic world, too young to understand older people situations, impulsive, obsessed with open courtships, and most of all unfaithfulness before and after we took vows, causes of so much infidelity.

Earth freed herself, finally, from that battle of doing time of her term of therapy to THERAPING!!! and ending a union that just didn't have what it took to continue that "so called" everlasting flame.
It is just one of those things, that noone is really to blame.
Earth continued to walk further down the path after that to another period of brief lonliness, friends with benefit relationships but only two, living with a sibling at a miserable time of her life, bored to death with nothing to do but text and go to someone's house and use technology to communicate with the outside world because Earth feels she can only live in a world on the inside at this moment in time.
She met a man who seemed serious and deeply interested in her as they conversed musically, movies, and romance, only with no action, or dirty porn talk, or anything for the first month and a half of their courtship...just talk and grow in sync with rhyme.

He promised he would make her feel better when she was down or sick, protect her, and only told her what she wanted to hear as his true colors intimidate her, make her feel like she is just around, and she feels she has been fooled again, and she's trapped to walk.
She is stuck in the mud with this, soul of a mountainman whom she doesn't understand, young man with the mentality of a senior citizen who only cares about what he wants and that's it; he was all talk.
Always making rude, derogatory, cruel comments about everything, constantly complaining, talking about only his interests day after day, and no erotic sex magic dances or sweet comforts of cuddling as if it did happen it would only be on his terms, and ignoring her interests and needs, no lie, the glove does fit.
She knows she is unsatisfied and lonely in this courtship just like it was with the rest of the others, and she knows the hurtful truth that there is tons of things that's always the same and boring as many times, Earth has wanted to give up and leave and pull the cord on this fizzled out, dull, misunderstood, lacking love affair that just isn't it.

Deep down, she knows he loves her and she does him, but is this sherade they have a game of solitare?
This is the first battle she must decide to face and it may take time to determine if he is really her saint or her demon, and this could be a hard decision to make on making this move to battle this long fight.
Earth Steamwater has to take caution and think about this carefully if tghis is what she feels is best to take lessons to achieve her flight.
She feels a difference between her and the mountainman, for she feels they connect in a different way, and Earth is trying her hardest to stay, to love him, and to give him a chance.
But, the connection of that physical desire rapidly went non-existent like they are roommates instead of lovers, and she sometimes feels uncomfortable enough tempting to prance.

She feels the mountainman she's courting has no interest in who she is and what she can do, he mocks and jeers at her playing his fake banjo imitating a buck-toothed fool speaking her words of art.
If she lived in that mountain most of her life by herself she would of grabbed a shotgun and blew his cocky self apart.
As an outer sign of water, she takes pride and heart into what she believes in, feels for, and has no fear of expressing it for she is as mortal as we.
Earth finds it insulting how the mountainman's cruel, obnoxious sense of humor can be.

So, she's stuck in this battle as of now because of obstacles leaving her no chpoice but to stay until she can fight it out.
That will be another chapter in Earth Steamwater's life she will soon shout.
Her dreams, hopes, and her mind is all she needs to fight this battle because this battle is where she needs to come out of her shell to be seen, heard, felt, and smelled again.
She lived inside as her own best friend for so many years that she wants social acceptance of who she really is, how she is, and what she does with no judgement or remarks passed at her and be respected and admired for that and see that her beauty is just like the flight of a wren.

Trusting is the hard part and forgiveness of herself is even harder for herself as this is to Earth's knowledge of who is the kindred person, maybe a friend perhaps, that can understand her in and out without saying alot of words to explain?
Who would be willing to volunteer to understand her on a spiritual plane?
The battle had just begun and the gates of the bright and dark forces are opening as the first event is a jousting match between her light and dark side.
As both sides of her are ready with determination the announcer blares the trumpet and the race is on while the horses are running rampantly and rapidly as both sides have their swords ready to knock off the opponent to the ground like a high ocean tide.

As the collision grows closer, the tensions grow high, she thought it's gotta be us both or one of us will survive like a corpse walking around.
As the swords reached at the same time hitting both the light and the dark armour at once, each side fell to their weakness but not to their death as they understood the game, that same old sound.
Earth realized not to kill neither side, but learn to sedate it to a degree so you can maintain the balance and show these sides when necessary, and be her own name.
Earth defeated both sides by keeping patience and control, one of her hardest tasks, of the good and sinister forces because if she resorts to too much of one and not the other, things could get teary or wrong, and she will be to blame.

Earth fought one battle logically but yet has many more to wrestle yet.
She has survived this long, but no happiness to make her feel nothing but regret.
The happiness and the sorrows from her come from many people who broke her pride.
Until again her next battles will she survive?  It's for her to decide.

Purgatory

Surrounded by a steaming tar pit of dangerous animals with a taste of poisonous drugs injected through the veins.
Screaming the nightmares, the memory remains.
Climbing the vines with broken glass and pointy thorns as the prick cuts deep.
In this world mockery we weep.

Prancing along in the planted gardens of witch bane and rusted black roses only to smell death that lingers on.
Remembering the ones who are now gone.
Reading the stones as they speak in a silent, yet lukewarm tone.
Only to know, this is a psychedelic downward spiral in the shape of a cone.

Screaming, whaling…a nymph in shattered desires and reality of what remains the same.
Staring into the eyes of the black lion that is not so tame.
Fighting to the finish as it gets harder to determine the mind’s soft, innocent, crying eyes.
The only way to know is to look up to the skies.

Dressed in black rises a woman figure with a face so pail and her eyes so red.
Telling the one that the soul is dead.
Taken by the arm as she leads the path of self-destruction and bitter hate.
Oh, the sweet sounds of torture is not worth the wait.

Running to finally see a bright yellow light at the end of the tunnel but moves farther away to the mind’s eye.
Just a sweet collage of paradise is no longer a lie.
Keep reaching out to that tunnel of freedom, forgiveness, and eternal love.
Soon a greeting from The All will be disguised as a dove.

Smiling down…looking at each of the souls who desperately want to free from the thoughts of one’s own self-pity.
Come into the light, reach for that city.
Despite the cold air and confined spaces of laying there only to see.
Eventually, once forgiven, a soul will be free.

Verdict

Judgment has come to those who have represented their cares of guilt and torment as an angel’s trumpet has blared.
Innocent lives were destroyed with no way of recovery as their own war has been declared.
Blessed are the forgiven who shed their blood on the grounds of the land that was lived beyond being on Mars.
Each granted pardons of a life with transparent scars.

Bonded to self-destruction and harm to others a sin so great as they’re ball and chained to their posts.
Damned, they are, as their fault free mind roasts.
The warden in this incarceration of the lost souls looks stiff and is fierce like a bull.
Doing whatever they tell him to do at his command or the tighter the shackles and chains pull.

A child reaches out to seek the angel on a cliff to watch the verdict being released.
As his pet dog is protecting him from the demons unleashed.
A beginning journey of healing as the time passes by since the forbidden even happened not long ago.
Time telling the child to move on as his bags are all packed ready for his life to grow.

As this man alone who lives in a cave with only a lantern, book, and pen as he writes down this event.
He lives in solitude due to his work being perfected as he now will repent.
He walks along the snowy mountains to see the judgment being passed.
Coming to his own conclusions as his writing has massed.

The judge has arrived to sit on the steel, metal throne holding a sword.
Trying to be fair instead of creating discord.
The judge sits firmly but has patience that depends.
To let them know the sword does cut both ends.

Free as they are, a lesson well learned.
No longer to sin again, the courts adjourned.
Completed the cycle of their bitter punishments in their own prison.
Free as an open book, their freedom to move on has risen.

Pointless Trying

The lights inside our minds flicker.
From the ideas that we always bicker.
Closing our eyes and hearts to a world filled with cruelty, bitterness, coldness, and sadness.
As we shoved open all doors of the universe to create madness.

Worrying about the small things in life as we ignore the vast.
Something we learn from the people of our past.
We should alll find a way to get along and accept each other for who we are.
Even those we dislike and tolerate, the shinier the star.

We disown the ugly, the bigger, and the sick.
There's no more blood for the finger as it needs to have a pin prick.
Heartless we are as we walk the full yet empty streets of life.
We all ambulate to those people who caused us strife.

Let us accept things as they are for it only makes us weaker and cold.
Fighting for our rights and our souls seems to cost us, another soul sold.
It always has to be this way as the world's already gone mad.
Over things that are really nothing but hurting us so bad.

Views

Insecurity wraps around all souls who feel left out from society as if someone took a dagger and severed the skin to the meat of our arthritic joints.
As sin blindfolds us for anything becomes an addiction at points.
Society is the outcast for ridicule of their hypocritical minds.
As each soul is the one that finds.

We're not like everyone else so icy cold with hate and one track minds that speak of prejudice and discrimination to the unusual and peculiar that makes us so strange.
Our thoughts are deeper than the shallow, muddy rivers out of range.
We're proud of who we are because we are not backing down from everyone else's fights.
Speaking for our peace and beliefs and our rights.

Abuse or violence is being felt as a means of solving a thousand piece puzzle to life as a means of self expression.
As they cry for their sins at their own path's confession.
We try to keep an open mind to all things as long as we harm no one.
We try not to sedate what we feel comfortable with as our deeds will be done.

The Revenge

Take the sword out of the back for what was done is unforgivable and sinful to this vindictive friend.
A human was once loved, but now it is the end.
A man came along with his bedroom eyes and welcoming charms of his own truth and deceit.
Speaking the same words of devotion to two ladies because of his playing ways, and his definite repeat.

Take off the face that is worn when approached to one as he shines down his alluring glory while behind the back mocking the other.
When he plays the character, to many, a fellow brother.
Appealing he may be when he is alone with one or the other singling out the other and telling his lies.
Pretending to be in love with both is his ultimate disguise.

Both women had jewels and material possessions to spare for he knew greed would win.
Chasing elegant women around for his needs, and when it is all gone, he is on the prowl again.
The two friends were like sisters always there through thick and thin until the gold digger came along to play.
Destroyed something way more valuable than money, a friendship so gay.

When the friends found out his story was when he was seen with a lady out on a fancy date.
Being caught, the jig of his game was up, he began to hesitate.
An ending to his game, the playtime is over.
What he needed now the most is a four leaf clover.

A friendship rekindled and revenge became a brilliant idea for the man and his cherade.
The law gave him a walk through the incarcerated parade.
It wasn’t the possessions or the money he stole that is now lost.
It was the lives of the women he ruined at a forbidden cost.
Corporeal Life Ceases Process
Dressed in black as heads bow low for tears can not be seen as being disguised from showing mortal mercy of the deceased.
Holding in the mourning not being released.
Words are spoken in verses in honor of the dead, as if it is an obligation to those who passed away.
Words from the ones who knew will relay.

In a box the eternally sleeping life form does not exist in corporeal form no more, like the existence of their bodies swallowed them whole.
A new being is in place that not one can stole.
In honor of the departed the box slowly sinks in the ground like a well being created many times.
Not physically lucky anymore to find dimes.

Usually the rain pours when someone good is gone, like the wind picks up their remains to send them to the next realm or dimension.
A dream it may be for the soul’s pension.
Speaking those words can only justify how known the beings were, like the inner soul found sanction at last.
In the ground the box lands, now it’s the past.

In a new life a being is being transformed from a caterpillar to a ravishing butterfly.
Looking down on the loved from the ongoing sky.
Time is the beings to get their wings to fly.
As being said their final good-bye.

Life's Analogies

Vanished with the wind as a freezing draft enters a lost soul like torture could not be given a name.
Wrapping around itself in uttermost shame.
Alone in the wilderness of life cutting through weeds and being caught in vines as they call themselves around the lost.
At any given time the decision can cost.

A guilt of nobility, honor, and respect is the solution for moments can fly by at any given instance.
As the mind repeats itself over and over that is subliminal in the distance.
Hypnotize the weak in the mind of countless hours like a torch being passed to the next in a repeated motion.
Not to make sense in life’s total devotion.

Shrouds of emotions, desires, obstacles, and mysteries given as gifts like golden apples given to the most glorious fairy in the old, old mill.
Something pauses the thoughts like a cold, winter chill.
Whether good or bad season after season of years to live life as a warrior defeating the enemy in a bitter war.
Around the bow and arrows lies in the heart a rusted door.

Hunting for prey to satisfy the hunger of the lost in order to survive the roller coasters of the ongoing amusement parks.
Like owls gawking into the night on ancient tree barks.
Traveling in time the lost can not retrieve the input of data that can not comprehend the questions without proof.
As life is known can be viewed higher than a house roof.

A path taken and decisions are faced in the eyes of the world like a gone astray traveling salesman without a road map.
Being careful of the choices not causing to snap.
Sounds of music is heard through an old gramophone to the being as the sounds of trumpets are blaring.
All of the good and bad moments are always worth sharing.

A Whole New Life

Thoughts are devoured inside the minds of the innocent of scattered images and broken records that were once played.
Indeed the gazes stare at another day.
Trapped are the innocent, fragile, pale minds which are weak, instead of strong.
Just like listening to the whining words of a sad song.

Taken is the pride, the dignity, and feeling less than human like a bad master to its pet.
Changing the mind soul’s positive set.
Broken water pipes leaking so strongly as the mind slowly begins to shatter.
Intelligence has started to scatter.

Reaching out to the spirits for advice like a homeless person begging for money or food.
Trying so hard not to be crude.
An offering is given as the soul wants saved from the smelling, stinking septic tanks of their mind.
A whole new life, a different kind.

World's Choice

Take a step inside a world of belonging and bliss.
Not a soul will ever be missed.
Bright greetings welcomed with open arms.
Many…so many full of charms.

Walk inside the world of dreams and fulfilled wishes granted over and over again forever more.
The mind is how we open the door.
Welcome to the world where those eccentric souls’s belong.
Always be forgiven when things are done wrong.

Laughter and tears all rolled into one as this path is taken.
No longer ever being felt forsaken.
As a journey is taken to an always welcomed path of love and light.
Inside the heart’s pure delight.

Freedom of choices, freedom of self-fulfilled, everlasting tasks.
Now it’s time to unveil the masks.
As a dance becomes slow, a hand reaches out to touch the soul.
No longer entering a tunnel as dark as coal.

This is a choice, a decision needing to be made.
Or the soul’s beauty will soon begin to fade.
Surrounded by darkness is another poorly made choice.
Inside the mind lies a voice.

It’s up to the world how crossed the complicated, rocky roads of life when it can not be a possibility.
It is up to the world to stretch this ability.