You are like the ocean.
Beautiful and mysterious.
I want to explore every inch of you.

You are like the forest.
Calm and quiet.
I could get lost in you for hours.

You are like the breeze on a summer day.
Warm and comforting.
Let me soak you into my skin.

You are like a flower.
You have rooted yourself into my heart.
Let me help you grow.

If your sky is grey
let me paint it blue,
if you need love
I’ll love you.

If your heart is broken
I’ll wrap you in my wings,
I’ll sing a sweet song
reassurance it will bring.

If you need a friend
I’m always there,
I’ll pick the stars
and place them in your hair.

When you feel alone
don’t be afraid to call,
for I’ll always catch you
if you stumble and fall.

If you’re sad and blue
just remember,
I’m your friend
I’ll always love you!

And you stood there,
So far, yet so near.
You looked like you could save me,
and all I could do was- to trust you when my hope was dying in a dark pit of despair.

I stretched my hands towards you so that you could pull me away from the darkness,
But all I felt was cold pain gushing through my heart-
You disappeared

A pocketful of doom is flourishing
ceiling to wall in my cranium,

and though I tend to the tantrum of it
with fatherly, nurturing discipline

it acts as a nebulous cumulonimbus
fog seething with diffusion of void,
breaking through every window of warm

out to the inside I tend to become

an accidental abuser, flailing teeth
into over-ripened words, knocking
unripened fruit from the bough between us.

With nerves like coiled snakes in an apple,
prismatic minds are dulled to a fractal
of their former spectral rainbow
when expunged into the shadow.

Thorough rage—event horizon
clawing sides of deep depressions,
cusping manic at the fervor—

when the cliff becomes the shackle
of the neurosis-fed darkness jackal

open demise toward the mouth of the sun
and perhaps tongue at infinite light.

Whitewashed fences mark
the division of shallow lines
of demarcation marring a bitter plain

Truth that too can be seen
as a balance with bruised knees
whispering prayers of bent supplication

Looking for a smile seen in clouds
of judgment and blurred hazes

The drum beats of life and echoes still,
in cracked addicted alleys of fairness
gone awry with a broken wheel
spinning on a loom of time

Native pains and naive indiscretions inexcusable, earth telling a compelling
tale if you can dig your hand in the dirt

Seeking through the mire for truth
and tales long since buried in the sands
of time, which whisk away history,
books burned with lies full of distaste

Imprinted on impressionable minds
like miscreant clones sprung
from fanatical factories

Indoctrinated with false education
and breeding still more hate, echoing,
listening to the heartstrings playing
a concerto of truth, an aria of sad realism

A beating of a drum
that has long since been silenced
by an oppressive, regressive hand

These times give me fear when courage
is what is needed most, post haste

Hate seems to be in such a fury
hurrying at a madman's pace.