The Curse

He often loved too harshly

Or hated too softly

At times, his joy fell cold

And his sadness grew warm

He found insignificance with the serious

Enjoyed the importance of the trivial

His mind never experienced quiet

Nor did his heart become loud

He watched death in the living

Observed life in the dying

He knew the good in the bad

Friended the bad in the good

He was a constant contradiction

Embracing both sides of the opposites

Always walking the line

One foot gracing each side

Unable to find balance

Such is the curse of chaos

 

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The Encounter

She mesmerized them
Sweeping with a gown of pure white
Flowing with a train of elegant feathers
She moved effortlessly across the Great Hall

He mesmerized them
Sweeping with a suit of pure black
Flowing with a train of ribbed leather
He moved effortlessly across the Great Hall

She captivated him
With cascading, ebony locks
And a crimson, seductive smile
He knew she was no ordinary creature

He captivated her
With cascading, ivory locks
And a crimson, piercing gaze
She knew he was no ordinary creature

The gathered parted
Their lips sealed shut
Their eyes wide in wonder
What would become of this encounter?

She passed him by
Her fingers never reaching his
A slow blink her departing gift
She exited the Great Hall

He passed her by
His fingers never reaching hers
A slow blink his departing gift
He exited the Great Hall

She waited at the North
Her train unfurling into hidden wings
Flying high, she held his gaze
Tonight wasn’t for fighting no ordinary creatures

He waited at the South
His train unfurling into hidden wings
Flying high, he held her smile
Tonight wasn’t for fighting no ordinary creatures

The gathered regrouped
Whispers passed their lips
Eyes searching for answers
What had become of this encounter?

Love Confessions

I never say I love you
Nor wave when I leave
It gnaws my every waking moment
For I wonder if you grieve

I fear you don’t know how I feel
Or think our love is dead
Are my concerns legitimate?
Or does self doubt circle my head?

Truth is, I don’t know how to say
Those words meaning so much to me
I must find a different method
That will grant you to see

My heart rests in your hands
And you’re always on my mind
Your support doesn’t go unnoticed
Your patience is more than kind

My daily prayer is you’re not vexed
That your heart holds no spite
Please know our love isn’t in danger
Because of my personal plight

Even though I my tongue ties
Know you’re what I dreamt of
Even though my words are lacking
You will eternally have my love

Memories of You

Memories of you
Flickering back to life
I’m fading
Further into despair
My heart burns
Yearning for what we had
Looking backward with
Rose-tinted longing
Where did the time go
Why did we change
How did it all fall apart
I hate myself
Thinking of you
Even though I know
What I’m tortured with
For all eternity
I’m fading
Stuck with this life
Burdened with memories of you

He Liked the Fall

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I wanted to share a sign my late great aunt made for my great-grandpa’s grave. Sorting through old pictures on my phone, I came across this photo. The paraphrasing of Earnest Hemingway reads as follows:

“Best of all, he liked the fall

The leaves yellow on the cottonwoods

Leaves floating on the trout streams

And above the hills the high blue

Windless skies–And now he

Will be a part of them forever”

All I Need is Silence

All I need is silence
The chance to free my mind
The break from the grind
A past life behind

All I need is anger
The release of my rage
The opening of my cage
A terrorizing soul plague

All I need is loneliness
The burning desire to be alone
The memories of what I’ve done
A wrath of an evil clone

All I need is death
The escape of all my pain
The reminder there’s nothing to gain
A constant state of blame

All I need is silence
The noiseless void to call my friend
The darkness creeping in
A haunting of the end

The Magic of the Foggy Glen

Stepping into foggy glen

Searching for inspiration

Experiencing foreign sensation

Brushing hair on end

Rippling goosebumps across the skin

Revitalizing air breathing in

Believing the supernatural kin

Scratching visions in pen

Defying the laws of men

Witnessing ghostly caravan

Observing the driver’s grin

Wondering where the carriage has been

Dreading the skeletals again

Closing eyes and counting ten

Providing brief mind vacation

Returning delightful premonition

Activating long-told superstitions

Proving what can’t be written

Striding along decaying fence

Singing lyrical execution

Melting into dark nation

Becoming another legend