Overlooking Sacredness

Nothing makes a person think about the truth until the crosshairs scan your body. An invasive species of thought, a termite, searching for that break in the fearlessness. Underneath their forced smiles of fear, is a history of restraint. Tyrants rule with fear. A message of false hope. A green promise that lines his pockets with black gold. Building his multiple, multi-million-dollar mansions along the paths of religious origins. His narcissistic view was one of grandeur, while his message was written clear above the hilltops, overlooking the sacredness of religion.

Whisking Minds

Scrambled mind breaks chain.
Whisking the truth between lies.
History repeats.

Love’s Goodbye

A small tip of the steel wing dips. Soaring through the midnight sky, roaring engines sing the song of love’s goodbye. Overhead the lonesome hearts of many, find solace relief between the earth and stars. Shoulders burden drops in peace.

Why are you leaving this way? Your message delivered by the moon with a kiss. Act three of our play is rehearsed. Over and over on the screen fueled by sighs. I thought that our love was alive. Instead, I was fooled by the death of these institutional lies. The last words from your lips were as dark as our trip. The screams of your body are cold, sending chills through the wind, that used to console.

It was only a matter of time. When you were standing in the sorrowing line. Your green eyes were flashing, with the filter of love’s ashes. I’m sorry you felt trapped in our ties. My heart fills with an infinite pit. While you run through the sludge of disgrace. Our lives have begun with a surrendering step, and our past has been swallowed by pride.


Scarring Eyes

There wasn’t a time when I was gone, where you didn’t cross my mind. The strength of our love was tied to regret and misery, each time I left. It’s the thorn of the ghost. A reminder of consequences, that attracts and repels the nature of life. It’s a burden that scars the eyes. Open for the world to see. And… I wore it with honor, as it pressed heavy on the back of fatigue, that’s carried between peace and war. As time crept, torturing the instinct of purpose. The slash of your hand wave’s goodbye, cresting the Atlantic, and our thoughts carve a steel blade that severs the heart’s reality. Turning the essence of closeness into strangers. Ripped away by ideals, our oneness splits the road of eternity into questions that gnaw on the ear of despair. We fell in love, and with that descent…dependent.


Shadows of the past.
Ageless memories ignite.
When the warmth sun strikes.

Ageless memories ignite.
Slicing the wound,
With her light embracing touch.

When the warmth sun strikes.
Daylight shines with empathy.
Blasting through the veil.

Conflict Zero

The loneliness ripened earlier and earlier in the day. Each moment begins to stretch. A sluggish pull-in time, tearing the questions of belief and morals. Decaying. There were days where ignoring every fiber of the why—shifting the zero to the who’s and how’s. It was a complicated web of the abstract and depths that continue to dig as deep as the soul allows for that day. Questioning…the truth of my own existence.

Confession on a Page

Wet blood turns dry, pouring out from my pitcher
Destined to speak, to the leaves… A confession.
Staining the paper with years of submissions
Love, hate, anger, rage;
From top to bottom, in front of a stage.
A symbol, a picture, or just there to stray.

Sending chills down the back of this leathery spine.
What’s mine is yours, throughout this short time.
Sharing, creating, penetrating, then strike.
The rings around rosey, and the tree who gives life.
Sacrificing her breath, without any choice.
To give this man’s words, his humbling voice.


photo: https://www.pinterest.com/juttabryant/beautiful-books/