Beware the mind that tricks the heart,
Twisting thoughts and thinks and mistrust in beings,

Beware the heart that blinds the mind,
An illogical devotion penned Venus suicide,

So what is left to us my dear?
Entrapped to tangle with love and logic set a dangle,

We cast a mesh to the rusted blender,
Of love and lust and sheets of splendor.

Upon this tattered notebook,
In retrospect from brimstone plains,
There lies this raging affliction,
From the deaths of those who have no names,

Whose nestled womb my hands have gorged,
Whose cries fell mute to this selfish scourge,

In all the days of all of men,
Not once I breathe relief again,

Who casted all the wind and fog;
The eternal jade of dampening eyes,
Whose glance to mine while intertwine,
Sees nothing more than those unnamed,

And at night every night,
These chains unwind,
Up from the floorboards,
Out from my mind,

‘Til firmly wrenched beyond your throat,
No wonder this sever amidst the moat.

The spark,
The fire,
The ember,
The ash,
Chin up kid,
‘Til it starts again.

A book is his heart,
The chapters his thoughts,
The pages his tears,
And the words his soul.

Because we’re birds of paradise—
Masquerading beneath reality,
On the forrest floor of cyber aspirations,
Caught in an epic mating tango;
For the underbrush to see,

God forbid to do it in public—
The charade can’t work when people know me.

Allow me this bet…

This bet to you,
This bet that reigns so true,
As a roaming sky is to blue,

If for one day,
One day one day,
Take heed take note,
To your dismay,
All the sinister things you’ll say,
To plain and simply…

Get your way.

Because humanity hung to the rusted rail,
Like stray raindrops struck from earth,
Building mass with a base that seemed to buckle
Underneath the weight of its own accord,

Because love was nearly swept a drift,
Like stray murals thrown upon walls,
As the tides turned and syphoned every cent
From your penniless pockets,

But sometimes it doesn’t happen;
Sometimes someone holds on,
Sometimes somebody says no,
Sometimes somebody does what you can’t,
Sometimes two people can’t quit,
And sometimes the tale ends
With happily ever after.

The voice still echoes,
From the screen that won’t ring,
And the scent still lingers,
On the sheets that won’t sleep,
As the chains take form,
Out of sockets to the cage,
That harness our insides,
Spilled life on a page.