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You walk a cold road.
Alone now.
I would have gone beside you--
You dwindle down a tangential path.
Alone now.
...I would have grown it close.

Happiness, contentment fall away beside you,
cliffs that you might slip down and break on,
catching yourself on your path of sorrow.
Alone now.

I cannot grieve with you--
Only for you.
Perhaps my tears will put roses in your path...
And you will see only thorns.



 

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I have leashed a river of words.  Will you swim?
Every phrase a drop of ink--  I've buckets full.
If I release them, kick the bucket down, will they live?
Pour, flowing, streaming out to unknown seas or spatter, puddle in
muddy silence showing only a shame stained face?

I birth a flood of words.  Will you drown?


 
 
 
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If light drifted through a crystal vase, could the fragments make me bleed?
I thought, once, that those pieces might kill me, if I held my wrists to catch them.
They might spatter like rapid fire bullets--
The bones would split and the blood would fly...
If light flew through a bloodstained glass, it might let my tears show red.
 
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Sometimes, a thorn pierces to the heart.
But the heart is not a man's most vulnerable organ.
Those thorns cause more pain when they scrape the belly.
Then they can sink in deeper, knot the cords of a madman's soul.
From there, they grow outward, to lacerate the limbs, to reshape claws,
to make the eyes blind or the tongue dumb.
Sometimes, a thorn pierces the heart, but the ribs will often get in the way.
 

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You hurt me.  Are you happy?
I touched you--  You burned.
Did you really want to burn?  A torch firelit in black.
I never knew a flame could burn black.

A voice called over, but, when my hand extended--
You burned.
Was it sound or whisper of flame?
As you pulled my light from me, did you call my name?
My name, and I never knew yours.
How could I call you back, crack the shell, release the flame?
Would it have helped at all?

I never knew your name--
Would it even have helped at all?


 



 

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The rocks are red and barren now
Their tears in yellowed clay;
The sagebrush guards the pebbles now
While eagles seek their prey.
The sun scours the fading rocks,
Now smaller and more alone...
The sun explores the waiting world
And bares its outer bone.

In some tiny crevice
A little snow still clings
Hiding, tasting bitterness
And other summer things,
Remembering, recalling the days that now are done--
The time when it was more
Than snow in the summer sun.
 
 

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   Flight

There by the silent waters,
Inhaling the breath of night,
I was stranded on the sand.
My soul was yearning for flight.

The stars, like shining splinters,
Behind a ragged curtain lay.
By morning, they had vanished...
But I feel the same by day.
 

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  Alone

I've felt him at midnight
Alone on the road.
The stars were like teardrops
About to explode.

Hope touched my spirit
As tears filled my eyes,
And I wept for the being
Who created those skies.
 
 

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  The Lamp

Shining brightly through the night,
A burning beacon, guiding light.
His mother died of  a broken heart;
Another wed his dear sweetheart.
But forever will his sister wait
Till he reads the sign on the garden gate,
 "Welcome home, brother dear.
 Come right in if I'm not here..."
Shining brightly through the night,
A burning beacon, guiding light.
Now his sister too is gone;
Her gleaming beacon glitters on.
 

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  Jealousy

Jealousy entered softly
On gently tapping feet.
Her fingernails gleamed evilly.
Her gaze I could not meet.

She locked the door quite swiftly
And threw away the key.
"And now," she said caressingly,
"Now you belong to me!"
 

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A bedroom at night is a terrible place
Where goblins and witches abound
Where ugly rock trolls hide poisonous gold
And go constantly barking around.

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 A Shaken Heart

The crystal lattice of the soul
Shakes but will not shatter.
The heart that lies within my breast
Breaks but will not scatter.

Broken atoms that were joy
Must be a while alone,
As molten liquids, dying stars
Solidify to stone.

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  Witching

When the moon is a disk of pearly white,
When the moon is a ball of unholy light,
And the stars are afire, brighter and bright--
Then is the time of demon delight.

Then is the night when the witches ride,
And god-fearing folk remain inside,
When curses and spells must be decried.
The shadow of darkness cannot be defied.


 

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