Rage of living
"
As blood crawls through my veins
Sadness sweeps my soundless heart
A picture of a frozen lake
Shows truth to feelings captured

As songs are sung to an icy shiver
A warming wake insews my yearning
As hunting time begins again
To feed upon the faint of heart

As elegant as one best tries
To talk of open rhymes
A passion stirs between two kinds
That arouses most my nerves

Intriguing as the stories told
My will begins to fade
As hunger pulls from darker depths
To rage my callous mind

Red as a fruit on a draping vine
Which takes the form of mortal wine
But chilled is how it's worst to serve
As coursing from a warmer shell
To ravage and entwine my senses

After breaking in the fruit of life
For one's to touch the devils Grape
A masked calmness soothes the bane
The curse, the cause, the caine.

A masquerade that pulls the wool
Over unknowing eye's
In a perfect lure and hide away
For things of such
My kind

Sorrow dwells in the heart of every single being
But the consumption of our own emotions
That leads to despair.

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A Mockingbird

A mockingbird weeps at the vain emptiness
Tracing one’s once human shelf
Toil to times bound the spirit and voice
Now landing on new disturbed ground
Meeting a falling feather gives moments breath
So earthy forms can be heard and there pains

Murmurs a voice, muffled and broken
Squawk goes the bird “thou not disturbed”
“I’m buried, I’m dying why ain’t I alive”
“Pitted, wrapped and bedded well” it said
“How did this happen, or come to pass”
“Pass is the form that all must grasp”
“But how or why? Is it not my choice”
“No” saluk the mockingbird

“It’s how one glows in life that best ends their world
If shallow and lonely they become conceived with terror
If nice and beguested then peace shall be presented
But if the words of warning aren’t indured
Then once one’s head’s taken it’s never returned
So chance is the choice of a free mans will
But if incorrectly spoken the final fate falls ill

So to step upon a ladder that reaches the sky
Might intern deny my new birth as you?

“Instead of to sing to the winds spoken titter
I shall for ever intern mourn the sweetest sorrows”

“But the choice of your song still remains the same”

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My Test

Like pockets with a jacket,
Memories I shall collect,
Shelving in open view,
So I can recollect,

The order of the meeting,
Prevails her lovely smile,
The warmth of the greeting,
Gentle comforts that embrace,

A hug of thought,
A hug of Care,
A hug brimmed with feeling,
A hug we both shared,

A suns new breath hails the morning closing in,
Conversation raises fast than both have ever seen,
Subjects mixed but clear as lending each other ears,
As time arrives to whisper sweet lullabies,

A pardon to my state, for I fear I am amok,
But manners to suit a gentleman as not to scare or shock,
A lovely dwell and pause before the lips tell tales,
To end the lovely welcomes,
A beginning I dare not fail,

We titter to each other,
A penny for others thoughts,
Sharing voices when one’s aren’t lost,
“It’s alcohol of sorts”,
But now I fear with friends drawn eye’s,
A stirring in my mind,
That bravery has to take a stand,
So thou not become distraught,
But always is the test of time,
A pace which does consume,
The every passing day,
Ventures towards a break away,
But question,. Put astray,
Can one ask such as this one day,
Not to give a wrong impression,
As not to ask to soon,
The fear of asking,
But therefore loathing,
Both abide my call,

To listen to those voices,
That search to speak the truth,
My feeling may grow stronger still,
As her may form a root,
But surely shall I deserve to fall,
If I cut my wings in flgiht,
By swearing not to ask her still,
A Null or void I shall swallow,

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Weighted but Unbound

A pleasant breach of sun grazes upon an open field
As swells of light wrap around the silent wind
The heat falls down upon a moon crescent face
Catching the twinkle of a star shining from their worldly soul

The joy of new found emotions form like the rising of the sun
That in turn motions the senses into action hearing the thoughts of the mountains mingle and converse

Long and lingers swells of heart felt emotions take form in awesome strutting waves

But this ocean is long, large and distant, the depths which are unfound and unknown
Searching for the hopes amongst the trees of open top islands that lay way to course direction

But even with in the silence of night where the sun no longer shines
Open against the ill-tempered wind intolerant to those of ignorance
The ocean bed has warmth, and comfort ready to embrace those
Whom look for lost calls that only begin as a whisper
But as the voices beckon, moving amongst the breeze
Their words gain character to portray a hidden form
A form that has now grown that once lay lifeless
To feel a lifted sorrow, and to grow there affections again

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Meaning of Life

I burrow deeper than where the gravest souls befall,
I chose to walk amongst the living until death do call,
A prison made of earth is nothing but paradise,
As human sacrifice can shine straight through that holy light,

Heavens Brethren sing upon the chorus,
As martyr’s call for grace,
But they just seem to be ignored,
As mighty wings are spread to pick amongst the masses
There is a deadly blade screaming out,
"call it the rite of passage",

A single person stands tall and all knowing,
Judging people from the belief that he is taller,
But as a child would say I’m not growing old one day,
Just to sit contemplating and withering away,

An understanding of a greater form for all,
Living, life, feeling this, which shouldn’t be, thrown away,
So here's the final message which was all intended,
Life is reality all though we'd like it to be pretend

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My Shadow

A tempered soul prefers a lure in darker dwelling
when sunlight braizes the shell which surrounds the shadow
Although that shadow shows true emotions
Still the body resides within
A shadow doesn't act on thought
As the heart can not think when masquerading life


A teller's story told of time's when feelings null
But upon the act of something so bold
The fading of trust wretches one's self
Thus the perfect picture and canvas
But again its the shadow that is paralysed
As the tellers story hails confusion
The body loses shape
The heart loses face

A bleak light searched for it's own shadow
Venturing until it's persuit reaches silences and rest.

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Bad_mox's poetry2

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