Welcome to the dark side

And so the metal rose that was once his soul twists within his chest, halting fantasy and breaking hearts on his journey of havok. Eat spine venemous bitch! He deserves no mercy, no respite; let him claw fruitlessly and toil the soil on his impossible climb up from his self dug hole. Dirt encrusted fingernails the only mark of passage toward the never closer white light.

Fate Tempestuous bitch she is, teasing and baiting with whispered hints at promises never kept. "Perhaps one day," she mutters. "Soon boy soon," she blurts impatiently before going to taunt another, leaving me to wait my until my turn on her viscious merry-go-round comes again, dragging off my not so high and tethering me to the hitching post instead, so my mind can never fly again; never reach up into the stars and pluck one of my dreams. I have so many, would it be so difficult to give me just one? That number may indeed be lonely to some, but for me and my wishes it would be an ultimate acheivement; "C'mon powers that be!" let me have my number, I've taken it more than once only to have another butt in front of the line you form for your perverse pleasure.... I"ll meet you in hell.

To Me Without Love, On Valentine's Day... Deciever! I live this viscious lie, a love lost in the beat of a heart only to be found again in the blink of an eye. I speak of destiny, of magic, of the pull we-I- no longer feel yet long to feel again; the twisting of the soul in that single moment when all else fades except her, and she becomes so clear and life begins anew, whether it be for a instant, an hour, or an eternity. To lose yourself within another is the wizardry of nature; is it wrong? If I look into her eyes and she were to see the same as I? If she were to see only I? Promiscuity, adultery, heartache, jealousy, anger, all words that scream NO! You musn't! Yet the dullness of the eyelock of my true love is as dead and stale as the uncirculating air in my dark, lonely apartment.

Remembrance Morn, She broke my slumber, a butterfly with tiger claws perched precious on green leaves colours glowing tarnished silver still so pure of sound as she whispered her loss of/and love I miss your touch I miss your kiss, I miss your written word I see your face I see your hands your voice I thought I heard I need your love I need your lips I need the comfort of your arms I vow to call I vow to write If you vow to banish harms Wide awake by now brows furrowed in concentration I loathe myself for belief and the images of butterflies dancing in my mind Time for restless slumber, for I know the content of my dreams. . .

Move toward the light