two winds diverge in a meet of solemn
to see a field, a brazen pollen
two are swirling and whirling
too twisted and quiet screams
two fighting for independent life
but one sinning the other wind's wife
the other turning inside out
while the first jabs and stakes about
as the thunderous silence
ear ringing silence
bust abruptly burning billows breeze in a gust a bay
to see the others turning way
for the one lost life
to another pollen's wife
and the quiet love flows gently on
while a smooth breeze floats red and yellow
to the others in the meadow
The love of life
loneliness is my only friend
therefore my companions never end
because i never had any to begin-
darkness is my only guide
therefore i can never get lost
because i never knew where i was
silence is the only noise i hear
therefore i have nothing to fear
because there is nothing there
pain is the only joy I've got
therefore there is no reason to cry
for nothing is worse-even if i die
death is the only life i've got
therefore i live not caring
for death won't change anything
all these and more are my life whole
and complete they become something
but i'm scared of nothing. i'm afraid.
these are frightening me to my grave
and i don't know why, it's not even something
but someone help me for i'm scared of nothing!
pill me, steal me as my soul
being gone and hidden now,
is thrown away like last weeks garbage
and eaten by the dogs as my heart breaks
to be crumpled into cake,
and iced for the party and celebrated
as the ice cream soaks on the plate
why do you hate me clothed in red?
did i kill your family fed?
be a wolf of eaten disgrace
of a flock of feign distaste
with a woodsman i cry for you
but my lord, where are you?
ax in my heart, sword in the flesh
gives a woman reason to cry her best
for a life of lost living
is what i'm now dying
and as soul is now broken
groaning, moaning, to token
nothing said
soul dead
the reaper stands on my back
i kindly ask him to get off
but he pulls the carpet out from under me
and escorts me to eternity
without a chance to walk my own
death shared a lovely thought
he kindly said he didn't care
and he held my chair
i sat to wait, and stared abroad
as a kindly waiter brought me champagne
i sipped it nicely with a smile
as death cheered and laughed a while
i got my meal, and smelled it fresh
it was baked with love and care
perfect, and death sarinated a song
but on purpose, the order was wrong
my poetry
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