The darkness holds a rose that is given to humanity

This very rose is the key to our sanity

Maybe this wasn't what I planned

Wasn't what I had in mind

You write your own future

You can’t rewrite your past

I keep all your photographs in a box

Shut up and sealed with tape

Your letters line the walls of my room

I can’t escape your words

Haunting, like the memory of your smile

The first time we met

Maybe this wasn't what I planned

Can’t play with fire, toy with fate

Swap signs, I turned left at the crossroads

Should have taken a right…

Lost and wandering cliched paths

And so my heart stopped beating

When our eyes stopped colliding

You may not be exquisitely handsome

But you were to me

Stare,

Stare at me forever

I’d love to see you when you’re old

Never tire of that smile

Maybe this wasn't what I planned

The realization hits so hard sometimes

All I can do is put my head in my knees

Suffocate in the dark

Until your thoughts pull me out again

Sometimes in the mornings I pretend

I’ll see you today

You’d pick me up again

Twirling round, round and round

Constant spinning helps settle my head

Since you let go of my hand…

This wasn't what I planned

To be able to remember exactly how it felt

To have your lips whisper my name

I can still feel your skin on mine

The waters so hot to burn the pain away

Hell, I STILL love you

parting is such sweet sorrow.....

[Romeo and Juliet]

A complete absence of hope has begun to fill these clogged arteries, and birds that sang in my arrivals and achievements have gone on to hang themselves with these energy-lacking power lines that string themselves repeatedly between my ears. If only I could just reach inside and revive these broken bones and bruised aspirations, all would be right again. It's only fair that we should be able to fix ourselves. Or if some futuristic factory existed where new thoughts, ideas, hopes and dreams were simply planted upon us one by one on some massive assembly line and as we exited we had this new way of looking at this grand old world of ours, and maybe if we're lucky, we can stop draining the world of everything she possesses and just drain ourselves again and again

Darkened skies of gray,
the clouds on your face,
and your thoughts in disarray.

There are no umbrellas here,
underneath your salted sky.
Drowning peacefully, in the tears you cry.

Wishing for the stream to overflow,
so I'll build a raft, but I won't know where to go.

In the amplified swirl of life,
lines and dots, forget-me-nots.

Time drifts faster than the wind.
Let's end this, before it begins.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great and would suffice. 

[Robert Frost – Fire and Ice]

"This place called Hell,

It is where Demons dwell.

And comfort me Fire,

For it is my last Desire."

[Turn and Smile- Prologue]

 

I started having these dreams.. dreams that I would trade the world for. I woke up...content...euphoric...I honestly cant describe the feeling I had when I awoke from my peaceful slumber. I dreamt these dreams that were so close to reality I literally mistook them for such.

But recently, my dreams have become nightmares that have me on the brink of terror, always in constant fear, and of what? I don't know. Every night for the past few days I have awoken from these dreams in a cold, wet, clammy sweat. I don't speak to anyone about these dreams...because even the idea of sharing such vividly horrible dreams makes my heart skip a beat and flutter. Each time I lay my head upon my pillow and turn off the lights, it begins.

As I circle the rim of deception
Who shall ensue their venom
When shall my lusty rainfall cease?

All is forgotten

As ‘Sick’ lingers over my door
Manifesting my being
To help me move on
To far-off sensibility

I’m hit hard and I crumble
Tidbits of my soul drop with a “ting”

As they fall to the forsaken floor
As they ensue the damned.

In cryptic sarcasm
You try and pull me back
A taunting of many cruelties

Let Go

I seep through, slowly receding
Until nothing lingers
And you glare impatiently
When it takes a few moments

For me to fade…

What is love
Is it a tempest that rages in the heart
A peaceful stream that glides, quietly in the soul
What is love if nothing but a feeling
An allusion that the mind creates to hide true feelings
Is love nothing but a thought, the hope of something different
Love is made up in a mind of hopeful wishing

Crawling in my forlorn appearance
I hide my soul behind these tattered wings
Tattered and broken as they are
Plucked of light, stained in tears and blood.

In quiet despair upon the cold earth
Smeared in dirt I crouch upon my weary knees
And clutched timidly between my fingers
Rests one last jewel of Hope.

A single unblemished plume plucked
From the silver light of dawn
A feathered ray of light from beyond
To illuminate the void that has me bound.

This precious barb of silk
Once lost as I was and forgotten
Blazes now to immerse me in radiant bliss
To wash away the pain, draw me from the abyss.

So now I fade away…
My tender flesh removed
My shattered wings released
My inner light unsheathed… escapes.

Broken and wasted away. The shadows burnt into its surface, the life burnt off. Where once stood a symbol of our vitality and wealth, now there lies the penalty of living a life too grand. Where once there was love and energy, now there are endless fields of ashes.

With the charcoal we can write and remember, but the feeling is forever crushed. Joy has never been known, and like a rose that has never seen the sun we crumble. Did this place once hold us? When the city crumbles, so do the bounds that hold us to our old lives. Those shadowy rose thorns break off and become thorns in our hearts.

The bones are hostile reminders or our past. The symbols of an old life. The symbols of our defeat. Miserable bones that know no rest; their time is over but their purpose is not. They build a throne we can share. King and Queen of this desolate future; keepers of our stained history.

The ashes will grow as we spread our own across the ruin. Scattered and lonely cries of desperation will echo in the violent wind and carry our message across an unforgiving ocean as our own ocean of drifting shards will carry us apart.

With only ashes for our home and a harsh sun eternally judging us few survivors, we push on. The city lights will never shine again, but their artificial life still beats in our veins like a horrible memory. The wraiths that form this new life know only the ashes and bloodstained clouds that recoil at the sight of our misery monument. And now we will fight for it and die for it, like we always have.

Swallow your fear and light the matches.

("As we walk through the ashes I whisper your name.")