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And every night a fool prays that which he has lost the will to fight for. 

A dream which passed long ago.


Such Sage

You’ll seek out a friend.

Someone who gets it.

Knows the words.

Acts by inaction.

Sees over the big picture.

But there is no such sage. Only you.

Beware the lost traveler. She abandons you then appeals to her sincerity as to your whereabouts.

Favorite Shade of Green

The man though an agent of annihilation
Cannot help but feel ripple of sentiment at his core
For the long standing woodland before him
He reluctantly chops away for what should be
A quick end to a fresh start
But the possibility of what was already a probability
A false hope to a dead end perhaps
Bonded to an illusion of a memory long past
That was his favorite shade of green
And all it took
Was a misplaced and unintended spark
To ignite the fire of an unrestrainable reaction.

Rain Clouds

For a moment there,

Immersed amongst the clouds of my own dreams,

I lost sight of reality, nowhere to land,

That is when I realized I have a life I wouldn’t trade;

But only to make a bit of change.

Life is deeper than the surface seen from the sky, and perhaps a few clouds might turn to rain. 

The Doll Party

It was an invitation to a social festivity.
To which my reply was brimming with positivity.
A small discontinuity to living in exclusivity.

On the way, I had already decided not to stay.
Why I am this way? I dare not say.
Above the entryway, there was a sign on display,
“Come in and let’s play the light away.”

Much to my dismay,
There were no people here today.

Replaced by dolls!
Dolls over here dolls over there.
All here to play?

Lifeless bodies yet spirited eyes.
Haunting the room with glass paired stares.
A sinful half existence.
Neither here nor there.
Unholy indulgence, a repulsive air.

I shut my eyes, I stumbled aside.
Yet I could not ignore what I abhor.
I snatched up a porcelain horror.

In the glass I could see, endlessly;
A loop of my reflection looking back at me.
I dropped the mockery.
I turned the wall mirror assuredly;
Expecting to see a doll version of yours truly.

But no.
Truly no.
All I could see was genuinely always me.

The Aberrant Captive

The scene spans distantly, meeting it’s calculated end on all sides.

Streams retain their clarity, returning deposits of dirt to their designated locations.

And in their disciplined freedom, trees chase the brightness of the sky.

What freedom has a wayward soul confounded to wander the muddied wilderness?

A habitat as it were, a home with a single design flaw.

Where all doors are sealed, not an open bedroom remains.

The aberrant captive.

My soul retreats into my daydream. 

Then, I miss the friends I never had.