She hides beneath pages of poetry.
Hoping no one will see the nightmare that is her reality.
Her words slither into your ears.
To hear is to be near.
To be near is to fear.
For when you look upon her.
A chance so rare one must dare.
A glimpse of pure beauty.
If she is looking at thee,
Then a great monstrosity is the last thing you will ever see
Before she slithers beneath the pages of her poetry.
She said, ” I long for something deeper than that of which resides in a kiss…”
So he opened his soul and let his poems unfold…
While his touch was as cold as a rain-washed window pane, they were not the same.
For the window, she could see through and through.
As for when she looked at him she never knew.
Somedays he would show her the sun.
Other days she wished to run.
Some nights he would be her guiding moon
Other nights were over far from soon.
Still, she stayed for he was her reflection.
Who am I?
What a silly question.
On so often asked.
Yet so rarely answered.
For we are an ever-changing sack of cells held up by brittle bones and cobblestones.
When I was a child,
I’d swing from the trees,
Pretending to be anything,
Anything but me…
Apparently I’m still pretending.
I would face the dragons above
And the demons below
Before even thinking of letting a love like ours go.
I would face the demons below
And the dragons above
Before even tasting a morsel of your poisonous love.
As I walk across this land I can’t help but see the catastrophe embedded deep behind me.
They are a mark discarded and left behind with little to no thought given.
We were meant to tend, mend and bend these lands not break them.
More often than not though we cannot help but precede to take more than we need.
In our wake we leave behind a place that has only ever given and never takes.
A new path is coming that you should embrace.
Do you have the courage to face your fears?
Can you confront what lies in wait around the corners of your mind?
There is no telling what you will find.
Or will you stay on the Trail of Torment and let the darkness consume you?
Keep in mind on a path you often walk alone and may have to find it for yourself but the journey is yours alone.
A Trail is traveled often leaving everything seen and boring with thorns of negativity leaving you wanting.
All bow to the Dragon of the forest.
For it is known the ashes from which they came they can become again.
The Dragon will still remain to guard that of which it creates and yet in an instant can forsake.