EdenThe dark cloudy sky,
Of a dull rainy day,
The sun had been defied,
To sunshine's dismay.
We looked about the grass,
As drops fell around us,
The steam off foggy glass,
Suddenly surrounds us.
Standing in the orb of Earth,
A difference, so even,
Sleeping soundly by the hearth,
A simple garden,
Eden.
Every need and joy was met,
As life-bearing drops rained down,
Invigorating every step,
The joy we'd lost was found. Eden
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SaltationBehind this barrier of wire,
Inside my windowpane,
I sit aloof,
Beneath this roof,
Losing what I gain.
My lungs suspire on their own,
My will, a distant thing,
As I gaze out,
Upon a world,
I want so desperately.
The wind blows freely,
Through the leaves,
A force, pure animus,
Driving branches,
In their dance,
A waltz within the gust.
I cry out I'd like to join,
But all they do is sneer,
My voice dwarfed out,
By wind, no doubt,
As dry eyes start to tear.
My body aches,
As pain awakes,
Within my bosom, He
Ravages my only hope,
Of dancing solemnly.
The leaves take part,
In bashing in,
My longing and my dream,
Turning Saltation
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A PleaLooking down,
So steadily,
A word, a plea,
Muttered she:
"Why dost thou,"
She stuttered about,
"Make me frown,
And cry, and pout?"
When in thy bed,
In cool night breeze,
Think ahead,
Who doth I please?
When not a one,
Comes to your mind,
When day doth come,
Please, be more kind. A Plea
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FlockLooking deeply in your eyes,
Gleaming like the pawns, the flies,
Enveloped in the bright blue shock,
How sad it is, to you, they flock.
To death, one coming justly so,
The consequence, a must, they go,
Though drawn rather unknowingly,
They flock, like so, accordingly.
Their burnt up bodies fall below,
Their silhouettes, I saw no glow,
Against the fabric of the sky,
I had told you, Death was nigh.
But even at the end of day,
Stop work, commerce, and even play,
They creep at night,
Against my plight,
They flock, for sense was far away. Flock
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Words
These tales have been,
My respite,
Long enough.
I must face this,
My music,
No matter,
How flat,
It sounds.
For these words can only,
Listen,
And stare back,
With knowing and sympathetic,
Gazes.
But they dare not speak,
And reveal,
The end that
They embody.
For that,
I must meet,
Myself. Words
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Forested to DesertedThe pieces of nature processed,
Quickly and brusquely caressed,
In the bends and folds of metal monsters,
And the sharp slicing edges that tear,
And shred and lacerate families of endoderm,
Apart from each other to be piled,
And sent with pieces of other families
A conglomerate orderly package.
These pieces get taken and placed,
In more machines and are tattooed,
With words and thoughts,
And secrets of love and laughter,
The desperation and apathy of depression,
The hardships of war and lore,
And the longing warmth of nostalgic memories,
From minds and mouths, to ink and paper.
And when tattooed, they are once again placed, Forested to Deserted
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Gilded TrimmingsSlight, the grip of a child's hands,
Around my neck and on my shoulders,
Envelops my body in a jacket of shackles,
binding my limbs and molding
my body into a presentable form.
My sloping and drooped posture and
my lackadaisical methods are quashed
by starched and pressed linens, and silks
colored deep, dark, and mysterious,
like the eyes of the mischievous,
leaving alone mine, a dull grey,
sapped of all life from the real pain,
the depressive kind,
from years of heartbroken failure
and the dismal realization of what life really is,
removing the guise from the "truths" whispered
by adults lying themselves into "comfort",
rev Gilded Trimmings
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YoursThe deepness of your eyes,
Rivals that of mine,
Reflecting my world,
Or is it yours?
Inverted, changed, it is unfurled:
The trees I see,
Are not of thee,
For in their place,
Lies ash, defaced.
The flowers grown in Spring's soft hands,
Disappeared from the fields of your lands,
With every death, each person slewn,
My understanding had been run through.
The ground's adorned by weeds, not grass,
Sewn by thee, not caring, but crass,
The sane man's mind always relents:
There's only chaos is your intents.
The world itself had lost its life,
Drained to death by your parasite,
From within the womb you were a curse,
An evil seed I Yours
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Sta.sh
