it'll all be over some day
like it is to me
but like it'll be for you.
the two worlds seem to swing
and dance through eachother
in my mind.
a wonderous world of
love-stricken wickedness.
a heat of battle in the
embrace of love,
all will be gone
and you left but
a tormentous fallen villian.
embrace the loss.
then fight to remember
the dead and dying.
along with them,
grant your own
flavor of holy peace.

no matter how close I stand to the light
my shadow casts larger.

The edge of a harp's elaborate silver braided chord,
Can be plucked to the same tune as the edge of a knife,
How well can you take the sounds?
And how well can you discern tween the two, if its within the same key?
To the same note;

if a harpist allowed a knife,
the weight of choice.
if a murderer can't truely learn licks of gods,
the depths of hell.

~

Delicant Discordant Convulsions Derive from Deeper manifestations of Darker tones and Chords Caught possibly unConciouslessy

a Slick Slip of premeditated Harmony to which Half-demons (the some cursed to cut) Huddle Heads to Some Sick Soulful Hurt.
one edge, a blade, Hangs Harrowed on, his brother-a-bridge, the Harp String, taut yet Slacked to allow that binding Sense of Husbanding.
one touch ruins Heaven,
one Hell,
one of some touch ruins all.
And in same vein:
they live in sameness.
where the lies hold truth, and in the truth, lies.
where do they end where do they begin, where do I lie.
and why not play a harp with a knife if I'm going to use them the same, yet different.
Atleast there's some home in the
cyclic screeching
~

dont trust harpists.
dont trust murderers.

god how i miss you.
the floor practically stands up to hit me as i slam myself to it.

hoping you're watching from above
my crippled fallen mess
with a warm hand to hold me.
to embrace this cold form.
my safety only in this blanket to caress my bruised and battered form.
It was all okay right?
Will only God say it was all okay?

A million pieces of shattered glass
that reflect back a broken man.
As the darkness still consumes him.
But no longer surrounds.

Leaving this mist to be cleared.
A leader endeared.
A lighthouse of home is his heart
and with it,
his mind finds nothing to be feared.
And at the helm he steers.
As the wisp of the sea pushes him onward.

I'll show !
And you tell !
And sometimes   I can't tell !
And when the showing is telling,
and the telling is showing,
I can't make hands nor tails of this
entire whole game !
Tell me what I show !
Show me what I tell !
The class applauds !
But then the class is silenced !
And in where in which, in each of there and this, does my lies amiss ?

And are we to subsist away from the realities of bliss
where every of note
is either just a hit or a miss ?
A miss that is a hit ?
A hit that is a miss ?
Then where do we resist ?

And then why does your gravity send me a kiss ?
Is it because my skin reeks of its
deprivity ?
Its lack from that plan to longevity ?
longing lastings of the lasting
longings ?
the fasting of the wrongings done to
the passing belongings ?

dreams are torturous
the way they will give you every thing
you could possibly desire
to then wake up cold

YOU CAN SATE THAT
DEATH WISH WITH
LIFE.

toppled tepid valor.
raddled restful rivers.
chilled waking waters.

listen.
silver bells of
beaching waves.
christens ears-
sleepy sands
and solid stones.

toast to our ghosts.
to ragabond know-nothings.
lifting, spilling, daring, courage.
And Honor.

A brotherhood built in assasins.
Not to be taken to timid degree.

We love by a creed.
We wake endlessly.
Seep seamlessly.
Nature's order canvas
for a paintbrush;
sweeping will of color.
sweeping sounds of love,
of chirping birds.
opening my soul with their
song.

I'm still sorry
for all of the
promises I
could no
longer keep
nor recall,

but I won't be
contractly
constrained
to decadenting
slavery and I've
never felt more free
than within the fullest love
of ourselves.

comfortablility came with whomever I was with.
but it felt just like you !