The entwining, curling, haunting wail.

Bracken fighting against nature, through, the un-even shale.

Lamenting sweet chants of sadness.

Torturing the brain to the point of madness.

Mist conceals a barren winter moor.

This is where the piper roams, unsure

300 years faithfully guarding.

The land of his forefather’s, never resting.

Wearily searching for the wanton  glory

That which is given, shall be returned ten fold with fury.

Craving his soul to come home to rest.

On this night, of a thousand stars

God will show me, where you are.

On this night of a thousand dreams.

That shines her realms.

On me.

On this night, when a thousand existence’s.

Becomes love’s sweet desire.

Nights of unbridled, passionate, fire.

Lovers in each other never tire.

On this night, of a thousand stars.

Reflections of a tear stained face.

Looks back at the station, haunted.

Left is the lost soul without grace.

Unwanted.

No more is the door open, sad.

Mascara, trails, hidden lines.

Searching for a direction, feeling bad.

Trembling lips she tries to confine.

Grace less, forlorn, face less.

Cut the stone, cut it fine.

Engrave the letters, make it mine.

Polish the marble, till it shines.

Place on my grave, so its within sight.

That when the sun shines, it catches the light.

And make the marble, black as night.

Plant the blue rose’s, so they blooms in spring.

So the angels approve, and the heraldic sing.

Beside the cherry blossom tree, that in the wind swings.

The stone should be of cipolin.(Italian marble)

With it so my immortality, will begin.

The Ice princess sat on the bank, of her emotional brook.

Her tears trickled first then, flowed but did not melt the new morns snow .

She pondered  transfixed , frozen in the coldest of dreams.

To a world oblivious, to the silence, of her  inner screams.

As the cold morning air hit , the pain in her lifeless heart weeps

A never ending awakening for soon the body will find the hearts sleep.

He walk’s a narrow ,thin white line.

Tracing his steps, back in time.

Back to the time, when his life began.

And the course his life took, trying to understand.

Sitting alone, given time to reflect.

His future, his past, never knowing what to expect.

For the killing of another, filled with greed, to avenge.

A penal system that now seeks it revenge.

Curled in a ball, laying on the floor

You beat me like I was a whore

Now you’ve left for the liquor store

What should I do

The door is in view

I’ve gotta push through

Staggering to me feet

Feeling the need to retreat

Am I admitting defeat

In front of the door I stand

With the door knob in my hand

All this was so unplanned

Opening the door

I hit the floor

Begging him on all fours

He turns to walk away

Who turns on the rain?

And turns it off again.

Who creates the flittering snow?

And lets it know, when its time to go.

Who switches on the blazing sun?

When a new morn has just begun.

Who fires up the raging hail?

As from the heavens it cast a trail.

Swaying seas the foam and rise.

As though suppressed, then suddenly reaching for an open sky.