am i stoic
for not feeling anything when in the presence of death
for not feeling anything when knowing it was his last breath
am i sick
for my heart not enduring pain
for my heart disconnecting with my brain
is it heroic
for my own body not to go through the stages
for my own body to be trapped in its plentiful cages
will it click
that he's actually gone
that i should be drawn
to it?

the curtains rise and all i can think about are the rows of faces that i know nothing about and the pressure of putting on a good show
my body moves according to muscle memory as the music starts to play

don't miss your cue
don't miss your cue
don't miss your cue

i hit each note and beat as needed, but that's just the first scene
you come up on stage once again the same time i do
and you look at me the way you were instructed to do so

don't break character
don't break character
don't break character

i deliver the lines as i'd internalized for
but little do you know i'm dying inside
we're told to look eye to eye for this one song
and i slide my fingers through the spaces between yours

don't fall in love
don't fall in love
don't fall in love

i braced myself for the last few notes of the song, but i braced myself even more for the reality that is to come once the curtains come down

i approach you offstage with every intention to tell you what i feel
but i miss my cue

i put on a strong face to show i'm not hurting
but i break character

i told myself i wouldn't let my feelings get in the way
but i fell in love

A wilting rose is slowly regaining it's strength after years with out sun or rain...

And finally it's leaves reveal their greenness of hope. It's Mistress beauty remains

For once it speaks out from it's slowly blooming petal's within. Weak and soft, sick of being haunted

I can't see myself to be something that is beautiful or worth loving or wanted...

A small grain of grass speaks into it's almost lifeless soul, waving in the wind to catch the beauty's attention.

Why can't you? Look at me! I am simply green! With thousands of others who share the same attraction!

And here you are! The jewel that stands out alone! An easy target for the eye!

And what is it I hear? A selfish complain? Your Midnight core wakes up the dead inside!

Madam of Dark Matter! Your shades of shadows break out the harmony of dreams!

You inform the creatures of this world the realness of death and how it's not what it's seems

You contain an elegance that many have labeled as wrong. You have qualities that are beautiful and rare

Should you put to shame the gift the Lord has placed in you individually?  Stop being so scared!

The thorns of her small thick body grew in a hurtful rush, tears from  yesterdays rain returning

What if my thorns of protection become a burden, What if I were to become a bush, would they stress out because my arms are reaching?

The single small piece of grass dangle with the rest of it's family in the wind, it's eyes locked on beauty in distress

Look out into the distance and you will see a family of me. There are billions of us, we were created to bless!

Though there are so many, we are never a burden, for we are the carpet of nature's foot steps.

We guide new members of the ground and dirt, We build them up to lift them from the depths.

Be in praise you have thorns! For too many are foolish not to protect them selves from danger

Stand your ground and deepen your roots. Do now allow your blossom to desire to go back into the dirt as a stranger

Everything has a purpose... everything has a time... everything has worth when it is used for the creator of our universe... Follow his words! You won't be lead astray!

These words of hope can save and change and dire helpless bud. Sadly too many of natures treasure have too quickly withered away...

The Black Rose did Blossom and bloom and reached it's leave out to the heaven's. Through it's growth it produce more life.

It became protection to those who were too weak, It became a symbol of true love, and became the proof that faith is a guide

Not all stories end so happily and glorious... that's why WE must spread out the message of hope like plants spread their seeds!

Before... like the strand of grass, we surrender to the ground... for everything has it's time to fade... Death is a need

The closeness of loyalty will stick by you, like the roots of a rose, it will be with you until your final days, and last breath

Good Bye... My sweet dew grass friend... The God of Creation has used you and you have completed your task... please... welcome your death!

You will finally gain your reward... For you have been used to pull me out of my darkest stage in life... and I thank our Creator for his provision!

But now that your gone... I too shall be used to awaken others from their dream, and bring them out from their stage... of depression...and fear...and *SIN

Who knows how far we will go
bit by bit we are changing on

The people are blanked in knowledge
going through the stages of ages

Blessed with education
but don't know the manner of devotion

Some are more educated
doesn't accept other statement

Nature laughs seismic
saying "How unacceptable you are"

Taste the fatal disasters
or save the discovered masterpiece

Wake up, wake up till the morning hours
or sleep till the departed flowers

Little white lights and little white pills,
Hoping they both do something for the memories sloshing around in my head,
**** them like bacteria?
Little bit of alcohol,
Shrivel them up with that bitter bitter,
***** ‘em out with my head under water,
Voice out far,
I’ll put on a show,
Strutting around on that hardwood floor,
Emerge stage right, through a prop door,
Blow a kiss to the crowd
At the end of the show,
If I pretend hard enough,
They’ll never know.
But won’t they,
If they find the empty, orange vials,
While I’m caking on stage makeup,
All the colors of denial,
And they know those aren’t tic tacs in my bathroom sink,
And it’s not apple juice
In my iced down drink,

But I can stand up, dress up, and play with the rest of them,
Run with the best of them,
Binding my panic in,
Tangled up in mic wires
And hair pins
As long as I medicate
Don’t communicate
And wrap it all up
Wind it all in
Nice and tight,
Not a hair out of place,
Big smile on my face,
That’s it,
Maybe that’ll do it,
Maybe I’ll get better this time.

I prefer my actors live on stage:
Living, breathing, running around.
But sometimes you need a stiff;
I like them to be, metaphorically speaking, upstanding
With a military bearing and patriotic moustache,
Ideally tricked, or seduced, by cunning foreigners.

Once they are dead, I want them face down,
Fully clothed, shot in the back,
Being studied by a stooping policeman,
Or better still, an upper class pre-war sleuth
With a cravat and a monocle;
No need for ceremony with them.

A doctor arrives.
‘What seems to be trouble?’ he asks.
‘He’s dead, you idiot!’ cries the sleuth;
‘Make yourself useful. Get Lady Bounder here a cup of tea.
She’s fainted. Two sugars.’

Enter Inspector Dummy.
‘It looks like ******,’ he announces.
‘Give the boy a medal,’ comes the witty reply.
‘Oh, sorry, your Lordship. Shall I shine your shoes?’

Then there’s a sub-plot, a side issue:
The bones of a victim
Of a botched bank robbery
Forty years before
And the stiff was his grandson.

It’s a hard job, being dead on stage,
Or so I’m told, I’ve never tried it.
I once saw a ****** victim sneeze, twice,
Under a table in the library.
He deserved that kick; nothing like a good laugh.

The curtain falls, flickering lights
light the ground and reveal the scene
The life is a stage, with vertiginious heights
and death is our final performance

****** requires perfection
It requires the pure lack of feeling
And what is life, what is satisfaction
without the euphoria of killing

Everyone wears a mask
I just chose to create my own
And I will not stop and finish my task
until your body will drop down

Im on the chase,
wont reveal my face
I will finally end your disgrace

The sound of my gun
as proud as an eagles scream
like a whisper of death
and a promise of salvation
leaves fear and terror
wherever it speaks

The gunsmoke evaporates
and this blossom of blood
That the shot created on the ground
this never ending beautiful flood
And the wonderful aspect
of the silenced sound

Killing is art
And madness is just inspiration

She rises and falls like a reposed breath
before an entire world's visage
in her encircled arms.
The incandescent glow of the stage
has an intoxicating quality to it,
the music being
something liquid, viscous.

As notes thrum in tender and soothing caresses,
her legs supple, twirl like petals
cascading under the weight of raindrops,
giving way to a lush surrender
steeped in a language of love and need.
Her very fire
and impassioned soulfulness
lifts her up above the crowd itself,
burning for all to see.

In this moment now
her timelessness enraptures me.
Another part of myself awakens to her grace
and renders me
gratefully whole.
A sense of euphoria slow dances its way
from her being to mine,
consuming every piece of my body
in a fiery bloom—
charging me with
a crackling, electrifying force
unlike my mere own.

I can see now
that this is what she was born to do—
to be on pointe, seeing everything.
Any instances of worldly fear
is left to the dying.
The rhythms of her old pains,
tribulations of past destructions,
are now buried beneath her feet.
And her radiant smile while she dances
still speaks to me gently—
that to be free
is to be wonderfully lost
in her waltz with destiny.

© BT

when i am on stage i tremble
um not able
to recite words slip
away
as you stare at me you strip
me naked
but at least i made it, here
i lost my confidence along the way
if someone saw it, i bet he wouldnt say
its okay
i will do without it today