

Blackest DayBright day purple haze gold string lines the horizon dark people speckled whiteBlackest Day


The Broken GravesPoetry is a defiled grave bleeding, crying, loud for help Cracked gleaming in the moonlightThe Broken Graves
Unheard silent screams from its inhabitants Smashed, lashed, bashed with the whips of broken souls the over casting weeping willows pay their respect
Cackling crows taunt and laugh their tears splash upon her face to cracked and faded words They drip down her cold bare skin landing on her dry coarse feet
There they lie in a sea of misery a land of despair
a city of broken graves


The IrisSilk dresses of white out of the black of day will arise a woman to see the night awayThe Iris
an oil lamp burning on god's pedestal to bring light to those whos life is of dark
But within her humble home she is but a follower, a dog who searches for the burning lamp
through dampened woods she crawls about to light the fragile lamp to see the night away


The WidowMy dear kneeling crying in distress Black satin covers your beautiful face The blackest rose you lay upon my chest to touch you without feeling you to see you without sight my heart is always yours I will love you foreverThe Widow
There you lay my noble soldier sleeping an endless dream underneath black rotting willow trees I give you my heart until death calls upon me I will love forever
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This is a lovely place. Im sure u will like it a lot
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Freedom of speech is not for the thought you love, it's for the thought you hate-Larry Flint
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