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I know of a place,
where it only rains ash.
The sun doesn't shine,
it was swallowed en masse.
By an ominous void,
that's now stifled the grass.
I'm loathe to return,
but I'll lead you if asked.

We'll journey on over,
to death's little home.
Where graves fill the fields,
in neat little rows.
Not a songbird in sight,
just cackling crows.
Nor will flowers you see,
where the bone roses grow.
I know the pain you feel is deep,
your want from life is simple peace.
And though I cannot guarantee,
please listen closely, as I speak.

Presently you stroll alone,
searching for a hand to hold.
You feel your sorrow in your bones,
in harshest sun, you still feel cold.

Pre - dawn, however, is darkest night
that must be followed by morning light.
I pray you won't give up the fight,
the universe will set things right.

I know at times, it seems unclear
that happiness is always near.
But wholly I believe my dear,
someday soon, you'll find some cheer.
Whatever happened to the moments
we lived for
the moments we lived from
electrifying lives
currents of passion
high voltage that knew no resistance

what do I have to do?
to feel the surge
to feel the spark
to feel alive again?

Is it in the tomes?
Is it in the songs?
Do the muses hold it in the walls?
Is it inside of me?

Searching for the switch
to send me back to passion
To make me feel charged again
to make me feel in charge again
Somehow even familiarity
has become distorted
beneath the the raw cinder blocks
doused white enough
that I could see
the eyes of the past
the eyes of the future
looking back at me,
the eyes of the present

that must journey
behind the white walls
into the familiar unknown

For there is something there

Beyond the white walls
there are grand structures
of such stone, of such wood
of such rainbow rays
casting themselves into
    such hollow ground
in attempt to make familiarity
solid like stone
like the golden man, nestled on
the lowercase t
For a moment
Climb out of that noose and come with me
Cast the razor blade away
And come
You'll see
That the eyes of youth can only imagine
A future in a week
Or two
But not a millennium
For with the gun in your teeth you cannot believe
That you are meant
For more
Than what you can already breathe
Every thud in your chest
Was made for life
A life
Well lived
Be a husband or a wife
Be an author
An artist
A creature of your own invention
A lover
A fighter
For you are needed for higher intentions
Than the tears you shed
Every night
And song
That reminds you of a time long gone
That will come again
If you just put down those meds
And come with me
Because like I said
The fumes from the car
Which you learnt to drive
For so much more you are meant to be alive
There once was a girl who craved love and affection,
because she was treated with hate and rejection,
so now she strives for perfect perfection.
lonely
Please hear my cries and looking into my eyes and tell me the words I'm craving...    

*I love you
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