Itrusted you
Andyou let me down
Walkingover me
Likea well-worn rug
*********
My faith in you
Foreverlost
Thepain you brought
Now,pay the cost
**********
Like icicle knives
Thrustinto me
I’mbleeding
Crimson,emotional strife
**********
Youare no longer welcome here
Takeyour burdens
Takeyour words
Takeyour callousness somewhere else
Come out little Whip-poor-will
It’s such a lovely day
The sun is on the rise again
Please come out and play
Come out little Whip-poor-will
The Pheasant’s on the run
We all have a job to do
Our song, it must be sung
Come out little Whip-poor-will
The seed is on the ground
We’ll forage it together
There’s so much to be found
Goodbye little Whip-poor-will
I see feathers on the rocks
We’ll sing, so long, in our song
Thanks to a stealthy fox
Yes, I’ll take your hand, Lord
When you offer it to me.
Of all your plantings in this world
I am but a mustard seed.
—————
But, you see inside of me
Much better than I do.
In this, I place my heart and soul
To do what you will do.
—————-
Understanding, I will take from this
Looking to my other hand.
For this is how I will share your love
Reflection, to my fellow man.
—————-
And though you don’t release me
Forever clasp inside your heart
My travels true
With words of you
Will be my place to start.
“Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move…”
Oh, differing souls
One of solace
One of rage
A keeper of the peace
A war within a cage
———————————-
Temples diametric
Seeking love
Seeking pain
Balance to a world
Imbalance for a gain
Woe, to the eyes that saw me
In the lackluster, deluge
Of yesterday’s dream.
What sayeth thee?
Ye of night vision
And chilled, blackened stares?
Are thee an owl?
Perched high above
And watching for human pray?
Whilst the stars witness
You prowl within the mind
Wreaking havoc upon those
Unwitting, and unwilling souls.
You are the embodiment of screams.
Nightmare flees when
You infest the scene.
You are terror incarnate – Azrael.
A honeycomb reflection
Bringing smiles
Bringing tears
Remembrance of a season
Passing days
Passing years
She sat on her veranda
With a teacup in her hand
Soaking in the fragrance
She once shared
She loved her man
Sunlight glistens beautifully
In that cup of liquid gold
The years, they had been good to her
Oh, the stories that she told
And for the lines and wrinkles
That creep across her face
Not a single would she trade
To be in any other place
