"Crisis"

Finally she got to sit in the front seat,
this little girl,
at the age of three,
which she had just turned this week.
her mommy looks over,
a tear on her cheek,
and tells her how she loves her,
her voice sounded weak.
She asked what was wrong,
her reply was:
"my darling i love you,
just please don't ask me this."
She pouted and screamed,
and begged what was wrong,
but mommy kept silent,
she'd been like that for so long.
Finally,
after a brief lapse of time,
she tapped mommy's shoulder,
and looked in her eye,
"mommy, i love you,
so please tell me why,
I dont understand,
its making me cry".
Her mother looked up,
only to find,
her loving little daughter,
wanted to know what was wrong,
and she didn't want a lie.
Finally the words came,
mom started to speak,
"My baby,
we're in a crisis this week."

"Lies"

Lies,
embedded into the fabric of time,
what was real?
what were mine?
Depression seeks an ember,
to set the sky ablaze,
creating constant misfortunes,
that will last me all of my days.
Lust seeps from the streets,
plaguing victims with its narrow feat,
throwing scandals all around,
even the good in your eyes is nowhere to be found.

"Tired"

she looks up at him and says: I'm tired.
Tired of waking up in a freezing sweat,
tired of nightmares that would scare the boogeyman.
I'm exhausted.
Exhausted from faking a smile constantly,
exhausted from the stress of watching life fall apart.
I'm drained.
Drained from the heartache all around me,
drained from the constant sorrows that surround me.
I'm weary.
Weary in my life,
weary in my time.
Mostly, I'm just tired.

"Rain on the Tundra"

lightning broke across the sky,
giving way to fleeing lives of passers by,
constant clapping in the scene,
a thunderous applause of the magic beeing seen.

screams of fear were rampant,
stunned campers looked on,
and yet we stayed,
hand in hand,
just standing there in awe.

rain drenched down,
flooding the wonderous plain,
creating a supernatural aura,
and we stood there,
knowing nothing would ever be the same.

"Get Back On Task"

Sitting at the desk with paper and pen,
slipping away from the task at hand,
was I really so wrong to distract myself?
Was I really so wrong to push my thoughts away?

Inner demons struggle to find the weakest flesh,
eating away at my utmost personal thoughts,
creating a cocoon of misery,
suffocating me in my premature absurdity.

What if I'd been stronger?
What if I'd been able to change something?
Questions buzz around my head,
like bats caught in a cage,
screeching to be let out into the night.

Flashes of nightmares and past events mix together,
only blending to a crimson colored fate,
choking on the words of my own survival,
giving way to alarming thoughts of hate.

Why do these things haunt me so?
Why can I not just let it all go?
So instead,
I push it away,
block up the cell for now,
ignore the demonic tunes of misery,
and get back to the task at hand.

"Contagious"

scattering, scrambling, scraping across the ground,
shadows fall upon the floor,
no traces of humans left to be found.
doors all locked inward,
no sign of escape,
hidden no more,
the people have strayed from this place.
only one inhabitant,
a weepy, wormy, willful boy,
keeping peace,
and digging graves,
for all recent passed,
and those contagious no more.

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The sirens blare,
the sirens wail,
all while we hold our breaths.
Frozen in sight,
by that passive limelight,
as the screams float crisply through air.
The accidents suffered,
through low self-esteem,
create such a fortress,
that our lies can't be seen.
We cry and we moan,
while holding our own,
while the triumph floats through the screen.
We'll laugh and we'll cheer,
while they all dissapear,
and the sirens no more will be seen.

"A Final Farewell"

tears streak down my face as i say goodbye,
so long to the life before me,
farewell to my so called friends.

triumphant hate dwells inside me,
winning all battles near and far.
for the first time i see myself dying,
and there's nothing i can do but watch the fall.

heartache bares down upon me,
bolting me in a nauseas vice,
creating a suffocating spiral,
locking me up in a fascade of ice.

this pressure is unbearable,
this weight i have to hold,
is crushing my heart and soul and mind,
but i must do what i am told.

"My Sweet December Valentine"

my sweet december valentine,
eyes of ice,
heart of stone,
but it all melts away,
and I see you're alone.

my guide post,
my lean on,
when the waves get too high,
but my problems wash away,
when I look in your clear blue eye.

your heartbeat traps me,
the monotonous tune,
but I stir when you're not with me,
even though I know you'll be soon.

my sweet december valentine,
your problems and all,
are my complete passions,
and I never want you to fall.

"Rage"

the floors are creaking again,
the walls are shaking,
that moment has come again,
where he returns.
i didn't want to be there,
i didn't want to hear.
the noises,
loud noises,
covering the night,
leaving the world with a dark fright.
his pitch hurt to hear,
his comforting tone was nowhere near.

the spiraling plunge,
to tears and to rage,
to hate and to love,
compassion to reach out,
but never to touch.
with murder under my breath i continued,
never forgetting the fear,
never reliquishing my hate,
that was clear.

constantly i screamed the excuses,
his life at work is rocky,
he just needs some order,
if only his day was shorter.
but no matter how hard i try,
i can't understand,
how this rage is taking the upperhand.

"The Storm Comes... (and leaves again)"

you're sitting on the ground,
waiting for the rain again.
you feel the water pass overhead,
but not dripping down.
you gaze onward,
waiting for the storm,
watching on the horizon,
knowing full well you'll be blown away upon its arrival.

the trees shake,
the thunder rattles the sky and ground,
animals are fleeing,
looking for guidance that will not be found.
but not you,
you sit soaked in your absurdity,
holding on to your last grip of hope,
while all warnings fly out the windows.

the trees come crashing down,
spraying with mist of sand and sea,
cars are tumbling under water,
but not that you can see.
your dreams are fleeing,
like the cars in line for evacuation,
but this storm just keeps on decieving,
blocking all exit paths in view.

suddenly the trees stop,
the whipping breeze is pulled to a whisper,
the galaxy has reversed itself,
for something new is with you.
a single glance,
a narrow shot in the dark,
the storm is over,
no damage is done,
because you managed to keep your hope.