In essence poetry is life; it is communication and the power to speak of things beyond the crude constructs of words. It is a high language, the tongue of the gods. To write poetically gives one the power to communicate not only with the conscious mind but on a deep level in a way the reader may not perceive. It has the power to invoke in us emotions and inspires us the think deeper on ourselves.
This is the true power of poetry and as such is timeless to the nature of mankind as a whole. It is a language that spans barriers and alters our perspectives. It can shape thoughts and seed in our minds new questions and wonders that no other form of expression can. One must only allow the words to flow unrestricted to speak in this language. We are all poets; some of us just do not allow that side of ourselves to speak. We fear what it might say and what it might uncover. It is reflection on why we do the things we do in life and the reason we awaken each morning.
Poetry is alive, it is born from the blood and torment of the explorer who shaped the words. It can bring about ecstasy and misery. It reflects all of the aspects of life; it is the purest essence of the soul. A language of symbols that all can understand. Universal truths that all can relate to. It is thought, perception, and understanding distilled to its purest form.
What we extract from any work tells us more about ourselves than anything else can. Introspect and self analysis is this art, to help show and help form our state of mind. It will influence all decisions in our lives. To read or write poetry is a great power. To think poetically in life is a perception unlike any other.
The study of poetry is an exploration of every inch of the self laid out on paper for close scrutiny and examination. A giving up of a part of the self to the world, often until there is little left of the creator. Pieced out on paper and through introspect and contemplation understood.
Such works open Pandora’s box and a battle of thought ensures. It is an exhausting endeavor that is not easy to stop. Taxing the resources of the body and mind, a plethora of emotions erupts. A state of trance where days or months of contemplation is focused into a few hours. Poetry can pour from the mind into the fingers and expulse itself upon the world its meaning. A brilliantly glimmering faucet of an otherworldly gem not of matter outside the laws of the world it is thought immaterial and condensed, emotion and meaning uncorrupted. Translation not needed its meaning spiritually clear. With words that resonate outside the product of matter to the soul and feeds the mind, poetry nourishes the soul and allows it to grow.
The soul excretes what it is fed. For great things to be spoken great words must be heard. One must learn to listen before he can learn to speak, to let go and allow the soul take over. Let it speak and cast forth that which it has learned through the filter of flesh that binds it to this world and colors its perception on what this world and our species within it endeavors to become. Poetry is the art of understanding the immaterial outside the scope and realm of science. Each poem serves as an epitaph of a memory or thought so that it will not fade or be lost in the echoes of time. Seeking to be immortal by seeding itself in the minds of others, it is a timeless echo that carries forth for the duration of mankind. It is a deadly game to give up a piece of oneself to the world. If left unread it will wither and die the poet can recede from this world and nothing left but ash and forgotten memories.
An orgasm of words expulsed from the body into the world, it takes on life and shape to feed the souls of others. It lays the foundations of tomorrow for others to build upon. It is creation of thoughts pure and sharp immune to the withering powers of time. The words of the great minds before our time are as powerful and sharp as they were when they were cast out onto paper.
Poetry is a spell that weaves itself into the mind and blossoms new meanings. Understandings and a new level of awareness, it is a magick unlike any other. It has the power to conjure up emotions both good and bad. To influence the filter of flesh that interacts with this world. Lines of code that alter the software of the mind and brings focus to that mysterious and elusive creature life.
It can awaken in us old primal aspects long forgotten. The elegance of word can have a deep impact on the mind of the reader. Such words can be immortal forged and burned into the minds of billions who may or may not understand its true meaning. On some phrases the true meaning may only reveal itself through deep contemplation and in such matters it is not only an exploration of the writing but of the self that leads to greater insight. Poetry and prose is an attempt to speak the tongue of the deeper self. Signs seals and sigils crowd the deepest recesses of our minds. We dream in them and they speak to us with vibrance. Most, however; cannot communicate back in this language and so a barrier is erected. True great writing bypasses the conscious mind and strikes at the subconscious. It is why it instills emotional reactions from deep within.
To look upon the works of another gives facet to the soul, it adds dimension and perspective. We live another life through the eyes of the author. We taste of their joy and their torment. it brings unto us a legendary journey where the rise but beckons the fall.
The use of poetry and prose is designed to convey emotions and concepts that simple sentences cannot. The use of overly complex words is often a tactic to talk over the heads of a group to disguise lack of skill. Complex words shouldn’t be needed to get your point across. A few is fine but if the reader gives up in futility half way through it is not an issue with them it lies with the writer. Some of the great writings in history do not rely upon obscure words to convey a deep meaning, quite the contrary. Let us take the following poem:
“To see a world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in a hour”
It is not long and its meaning is not deeply hidden. But the words resound with meaning. It reflects our place in life and expands the frame of focus so that we see beyond our limited viewpoint through the eyes of the eternal. A handful of simple words properly arranged to signify a deep meaning.
The use of elegant words in description of something serves to imbue it with a emotional essence, to give it life and to make it more profound in our thoughts. It is a simple way in which a complex concept can be conveyed to another in a manner that is efficient as well as effective. Poetry and prose is a more evolved form of language. It is the language of the subconscious mind and the reason much work written without focus seems to have an otherworldly power. When spending a great deal of time meticulously constructing any writing some of the flow can be choked. Creativity can come to a stop and frustration only serves to make this an even more difficult endeavor. By letting go and allowing the words to flow from your mind great insights come to the surface.
No one knew this better than the great William Shakespeare. His skill with the written word transcends cultures and has withstood the test of time. Let us take his most famous quote of all time from Hamlet. Nearly every person in the civilized world knows these words but so very few know their true meaning.
‘To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?
To die: to sleep;
To sleep perchance to dream, aye there’s the rub
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause:
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
To suffer under a weary brow
So that something after death
Makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than to fly to those we know not of‘
The first line is what is known as a glyph of existence. Much like the Jewish names for god it is a statement of self awareness. The Tetragrammaton JHVH translated directly means ‘to be’ denoting awareness of self existence. His statement is questioning his very existence and the meaning thereof. To exist or not to exist this is the question put forth.
The second line ‘whether it is nobler in mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them’. We have all seen in our modern times of Hollywood celebrity that the people enjoy nothing more than to torment and revel in the downfall of our celebrities. The newspapers are filled with scandals that in truth are often small but through focus we make them into mountains over interpreting every move and decision.
We do not dare do such things to those who are seen as benevolent. This phrase from Shakespeare reflects that in its truest form. They are scared to us and to be looked upon in adoration and respect.
“To die, to sleep to sleep perchance to dream.” Here Hamlet connects death to a dream and “‘When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause.” This phrase asks the question what comes of being after this life. Should it be a dream of joy or a nightmare from which one cannot awaken? It is this unknown that keeps man in this world despite its torments as he will now allude to.
‘For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, to suffer under a weary brow, so that something after death would make us rather bear those ills we have than to fly to those we know not of” . A simple phrase sums up the reason for why one does not seek out death in a world of misery. That is unless life becomes such a burden the mind cannot conceive of a death that would be greater.
In truth William Shakespeare was the grand master of understanding the human state of mind in its truest form. His writings are universal and as such have spanned the years unworn. He is a poet that describes the mind and the heart of man in words that are most true. It would taste of a lie to say any other writer has been born that can do such so elegantly.
That is not to say other poets have not found their own realm of great truths to speak of. Each man has eyes to see and ears to hear. All have to power to perceive if they possess the courage and fortitude to stand and look upon truth even though it may become a heavy burden to their minds. For a poet words once spoken cannot be forgotten. Time will dull them in mind if that is his will but the memories will always be there.
In the end the question arises to the meaning of life. What should one base his existence on? Seeing truth is a great thing but if one sees nothing but truth in all its form then the beauty of mystery is lost. The wonder in the eyes of a child as he sees things for the first time and contemplates its mystery is forever lost to us. This is why a poet dies a little with each poem he gives of his life to his words and hopes that they will live on after him. They are his children and his hopes and his dreams are reflected in him. The words of a man tell you a great deal of that man. Naked and unhidden he is vulnerable in his works. Unashamed of what he is and what he sees he cannot hold back.
He explores the darkest most primal recesses of his mind and brings them to the world for others to see. It is a courageous thing to expose oneself to the word as one truly is. We all wear masks, seeking to hide our true selves from the world. We do not wish for others to see the ugliness of our inner selves. We endeavor to become great actors hiding our true persona to play a part in the play of life that we wish we could be. Truth in words and from the heart tears away this mask and shows us for the person we are.
To do such a thing one must forgive themselves for their imperfections and no longer feel shame. If we were all perfect then we all would be the same. The diversity of life rests in its imperfections. It is this that makes us unique. It is this that makes us truly human. That is what we are and there should be no shame in being what is within your nature to be.
The exploration of self can be a dark and harrowing journey. A writer, a thinker seeks creativity in the most unexplored place in their life, the subconscious mind. It is a place of great demons and heroes. An epic battle that decides the mind of the ego and shapes and forms it as a result. It is a product of our experiences and as such it cannot create anything more than what it is given. Just as the body reflects what is put into it the mind does such as well. The French poet Arthur Rimbaud summarized the mind of the poet as such.
“A poet makes himself a visionary through a long, boundless, and systematized disorganization of all the senses. All forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he exhausts within himself all poisons, and preserves their quintessence. Unspeakable torment, where he will need the greatest faith, a superhuman strength, where he becomes all men: the great invalid, the great criminal, the great accursed—and the Supreme Scientist! For he attains the unknown! Because he has cultivated his soul, already rich, more than anyone! He attains the unknown, and, if demented, he finally loses the understanding of his visions; he will at least have seen them! So what if he is destroyed in his ecstatic flight through things unheard of, un-namable: other horrible workers will come; they will begin at the horizons where the first one has fallen! “
In essence poetry and great works of word are towers in which each generation builds upon the last. A new chapter in a book without end, life is a journey that has no end to its difficulty. If life were easy no man would seek anything outside his sphere of being and the world would go unexplored. It is the need to unlock the mysteries of the self and of our very own existence in an endless search for meaning that drives us forward.
Entertainment provides a rest from these journeys but to succumb to them only serves to distract from the true reason for being. Life ends so quickly and if one is distracted too often many answers will go unspoken, many paths unexplored. As we are a product of our experiences one should never be afraid of trying new things. To do this is to expand the self. To give the mind more to use in its eternal search for an answer to a question that many in this world still haven’t asked themselves.
The power of the poet is the power to let go. To let the subconscious mind lead him to a place that he does not know. When I write most of my poetry at the time I have no idea what I am speaking of. The words surprise me more so than anyone. Each poem a lesson taught to myself from a master hidden in the darkest recesses of the mind. Every word put forth a step in one manner or another on the path to understanding. Not of the world itself but of the self. As any scientist will tell you must first master the tool or machine that you intend to use before you can do anything productive with it.
This goes doubly so for our own minds. How it sees and how it perceives the world tells us of its parameters. As one person will see different things that another from the very same scene it is because their mind is designed to focus on different things. From their experiences their hierarchy of significance is different than that of others.
These flaws of perception shape the persona and create a world different than that of others. We all exist in a different world, no pair of eyes sees the same as another, and no interpretation of words is the same. While a poem may speak of one thing the reader may perceive something entirely different than that in which the writer intended. This is as it should be as wisdom is perception.
Knowledge and intelligence is different than wisdom. Knowledge and intelligence is a possession of information. Wisdom is the understanding on how to best use that information. It comes from experience and time. This is why we perceive the elders of our society to be the wise ones of our peoples. Their experiences in life have given them the power to amplify and best use their knowledge even though their memories may not be as solid as the youth. Their lessons not so newly learned they make up for it by using what they know in a much more multidimensional manner.
In a digital age where information is at any persons fingertips wisdom is the vital ingredient. The human mind can only possess so much information. Albert Einstein understood this best. “I try not to learn as much as I can so as to not clutter my mind with useless things.’
The man sought clarity of perspective so that he could see the underlying pattern of his work. Perception of this framework leads to a greater retention of information. Why know a thousand things if one can perceive the formula as to how they are created. He can then simply generate the knowledge that he needs. This gives access to a knowledge greater than the mind of study can hold, let us take the foundation of the written language. With much study one could attain a great deal of skill in reading, writing, and speaking of different languages. Through perception one learns that most of the western languages are rooted in Latin. By knowing Latin one can interpret to a better degree many languages as their words are rooted in Latin. Italian, Spanish, French, and even English hold roots in Latin. Knowing its words and their meanings allows one to translate the meaning of a phrase dynamically. Much less studying must be done, much less memorization must be undertaken and the work yields more than initially perceived.
But what of perspective, would this be our limiting factor. One simple point of view that forces us to see the world from a single filter, altering ones perspective allows one to use a different set of tools to see things in a new way. As would be expected changing how one sees things and analyzes them is not an easy thing to do. It is why often the use of mind altering drugs has been undertaken by artists of all types. As the great Jim Morrison once said.
‘I believe in a long prolonged derangement of the senses to attain the unknown. While we live in the subconscious our pale reason hides the infinite from us.'
By using practices that alter the senses be it drugs or meditative more naturalistic practices having a different viewpoint even if only for a short period allows us to see things in a different manner adding dimension to our understanding. Such undertakings allow our writings and other artistic expressions to become more subliminal and as stated before the correlations between symbolism in the unconscious mind being universal it allows us to speak in a manner that touches the reader on a deeper level.
Imagery in writing brings about visualization and pulls the reader into the mindset of the author and connects them with the subject sometimes in a way that is not readily perceived.
Understanding these universal symbols and placing them in their proper context to speak to the deeper parts of the human psyche is a very powerful skill. The psychiatrist Carl Jung spent his life developing a system of correlations between symbols and their meanings. His work on the twelve predominant archetypes shows how certain people and their personas resonate with us and what makes certain people have a charisma that can get through to us when others cannot.
To speak the language of the mind requires an understanding of symbolism. The subconscious mind is all about efficiency just as with all things in nature energy is hard to come by. The larger the brain the more energy it must consume. Using a more powerful language lessens the need of brain matter and makes it run more effectively. Symbols shape and define who we are; they show themselves in our dreams and speak to us in a language we do not often understand in the shallow pool of the conscious mind.
They are deep primal and old. These symbols are bred into our very DNA making them universal and the focus of psychiatry is often just an exploration of this arcane language. The question rises on how they formed and why they take on the shapes and meaning they do. One need only look to the earth and the heavens to see their eternal role in molding and shaping our minds.
We the children of the stars where all that we are made of is borne in their hearts and cast forth as seeds into the universe, to give potential of life. They shaped our body’s it is only befitting they shape our minds. Our old primitive ancestors seen great beings in their form and they were planted forever into our subconscious minds. Locked away until awakened by a thought pure and true so that we may one day awaken to a higher being and see through their timeless eyes. They have looked down upon us since our birth. We facet ourselves to the stars that looked upon us as we broke into this world our sign of birth.
Poetry is a mirror into the self. It reflects our deepest thoughts and perceptions. Formed and molded through our lives, it is us speaking to ourselves, a magic of words woven deep into the mind. This is the high art of poetics, to speak the tongue of the gods, eternal simple fundamental as the laws that shape the universe. Symbols are the laws of the mind, they are its foundation. Poetry is a religion of symbols, using the immaterial building blocks to create something greater. Each poem, a piece of a great tower into the stars of our creation, seeking to return to the heavens and walk amongst the gods of our creation, to see with eyes wide open. To think in seamless thought not limited by words or definitions. Language confines it restricts thought as it is limited and can only serve so well. Symbolism used in poetry is without bounds and can hold any form. Each symbol multifaceted in a diversity of meaning, interconnected and intricate lattice work binding all thought together and giving them a structure in which more thoughts can be laid. Poetry awakens and creates. It makes the writer immortal in the minds of future generations. To let go and feel its flow is to touch upon the essence of life itself.
The only way one can properly define poetry is to speak in its tongue. Let these words show what this essay could only gloss upon.
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Lazy cowardly slimy cur
You rants go unheard
Scream into the night
The troubled people’s plight
But listen they will not
For convenience
Their cares forgot
Easier to live a life of delusion
Hidden safe in the illusion
Fancy cars and diamond studded stars
While the poor sit and starve
You do not need to see to feel their need
Neglected in the right of mind
Will no one be kind
They trouble you in the dark of night
Their tormented souls bring you to fright
Properties and deeds, lust and needs
What Corruption this world breeds
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Envision a place where matter cannot
Envision a place where there is no thought
In a place where there is no light in the void of night
Fear not the worries of tomorrow
Do not dwell on the pains of yesterday's sorrow
Listen to the silence with baited breath
Wait till it comes like your ultimate death
The peace of thoughtless life is here
For in nothing there is nothing to fear
Clear your thoughts worries and needs
Let your memories slowly recede
Listen to nothing and listen well
The voice will call to you and you will see
That eternal wisdom lies within thee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The shepherds flocks lost in the rocks
Upon civilization end
Grass shall cover all that is over
And history begins again
Memories will fade into history’s age
We better revel with glee
For in time we all do fade
Into the echoes of eternity
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What are you doing tonight?
You I hope
A slippery tongued devil in truth am I
Learned to breathe through my ears have I
With yelps of joy a job well done
What could be better than a slip of the tongue
Giggle with glee as you smile at me
This slippery tongued devil loves you does he
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Echoes of emotion
Idle thoughts rise in promotion
Resonance of the tribal frequency
A life a dream of what could be
The base self mesmerized in the fire
Wisps away life’s desire
Shivers of fabric light
Memories of youth that burn so bright
Fading into the nighttime breeze
The space in between it seems
Is far more fascinating to me
A place to be a place to sit
A place to dance with death is it
Reach for it search for it
That last little glow
Life’s flickering flame
When out does it go
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poetry and prose
As elegant as a rose
With words abound and gleaming
What little worth is it without meaning
Beautiful words a poet shapes
Mystical words a poet knows
Without meaning they shine on
With a dull hollow glow
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An ill omen rises from the east as men suffer their fate
Black clouds mark with warning
Air sour with foreboding
Soon many broken shells will lie
As ends their place in time
Driven to fields of blood through deceptions eye
The powers of the tricksters that deceive
Sacrifice all that they have to fill the tricksters’ greed
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cast out the lust to make room for more
To fill my needs with pleasure adore
A pleasure without words
Of desire unheard
Bubbling a thrust with primal lust
Cast you down with passionate throes
And ravage your body till ecstasy’s glow
Your mind let loose
Softly seeking peruse
Feed you with desire
Ever raging fire
Consume me you will
Devouring my body to fill
Your ravaging lust
To do what we must
Feed from me your pleasured fire
And consume me you will with your desire
Every inch of my body sacrificed to you
To thyne own heart forever be true
An orgasm of words and visions did write
All shall be fulfilled with passion tonight
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
so small is matter
so infinite the stars
space abounds
none of it ours
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The candle burns with accelerated light
Intensity traded for time
Exposing more than the others can find
Out does it go before it’s time
Illumination of the mind
Thank it for its sacrifice
Intensity of awakening light
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You dropped this…
What is it…
My heart with a smile
I wrote it for you
The next step you choose
Your face has filled passion in me
The dream of what could be
For that you I do thank
Even if you decide to break this dear fate
It is a chance that I had to take
Love lost or not, so choose your fate
I do not care if you love another
I seen in your eyes our future together
Even though tempted coyfully
Too shy to look at me
Something about you that I will never forget
A chance in life I could not regret
Take this rose and with it my promise
A life of passion forever so true
As a poet my songs will forever be of you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Living in a world of numbers
Forced the mind to wander
To fields of daisy grass
Memories of childhood past
When did I dream of a fate
Where life would tally on the slate
For dollars and cents I have sold my day
All because I have forgotten to play
How many dollars
Would I sell an hour
My life and priceless time
Just to increase the bottom line
What would I pay in the end
To have one of those hours back again
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elementary blocks shape the table and the rocks
What a few combinations
Sends desire and lustful sensations
Few of them do we need
The rest just to fill our greed
Our world built to shape and to mold
These eternal blocks then sold
For paper of imaginary meaning
The focus of our eyes gleaming
We dream on dead kings
Pressed into paper so black
Negative balance dost give worry
Pressure to accumulate hurried
In a world of eternal blocks
We focus on imaginary stocks
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bumps fuzzy lost in the plains
So small an individual pains
To be seen in an ocean of beings
A role in the tribe he seeks to fulfill
The tribe too large so he never will
In a population of isolation
The primitive mind reels
Confusion to a world in which
It was not shaped to exist
It sees its family a tribe
That modern society denies
Too many together in one place
Lost in the ocean of the human race
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An idea flashes before another
Overshadowing its lesser brother
To take center stage
For a time on minds page
Till another overshadows it still
To make a decision
Fade to leave a dream behind
Focus on a goal of mind
Arms and legs work with devotion
Move to this dream with emotion
Ideas of possibilities to be imagined
In this way dreams are fashioned
The body serves only to bring them true
So new dreams may filter thru
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To see with greater form
Of possibilities of what could be
If focused the worlds ego went
To shape a paradise here with us
Pieces of the world we fit
She takes us back from the mistake
Her children made with technology deadly poisonous flow
The venom stings and infects the mind
Making us forget real people in life
Traded true friends for numbers imaginary infinite on end
Come back to the earth it is not too late
You have yet to seal your fate
Wash away the poisons with gentle streams
Nuzzle you to sleep with waves of grass
Walk beside the buffalo ever last
In the place you were born and with adventure
With curiosity you left
Your heart now bereft
The cry of the eagle dost soar
To bring you back to homes safe door
Technology marches forth with better ways to kill
Man and the earth ever still
Killing our own mother for our greed
And loves us still despite our treacherous need
Defends us with her last breath
We the villains of her brutal death
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Letter come to me I know
With crimson flow she embodies me whole
A little bit of gold, a little bit of blue
On emerald tides an opalescent hue
To dance beneath the sunlight sky
To let my cares fall where they lie
A moment captured in time
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The freedom of truth, the burden of regret
What has been learned we cannot forget
One fogs his mind, trying to blind
The memories of aspirations denied
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Body this vessel share do I
With a ragged beast
Of carnal pleasure doth seek
It’s next victim of lust indeed
To fill its gluttonous need
A boyfriend in jest
Yet you humor me still
Capture your heart he has not
Oh but I will
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh bringer of light, in times fright
Titan of learning ever burning
Prometheus thou can never be bound
Listen to the words in a place where there is no sound
Peace of mind forever in time
Wash away the cluttered mind and the voice will find you in time
Do not speak, do not think, listen for the words will come
Patience my foolish friend you cannot force that which is without end
Listen to the void of naught and what you seek shall be brought
When the mind gets tired and bored it will seek to distract you, it wills to be adored
Silence the chaotic child of thought listen to the void of naught
Therein shall the words true flow
Therein is the wisdom you will know
Listen with patient breath
From the abyss the words shall come, if your thoughts are distracting
Shallow mind those words you will never find
The speech in the silence is forever within
You cannot hear them because of the chaos you are in
Listen and think of nothing true, soon divine words shall resonate within you
Peace be mind placed in time
Peace be soul the words will make it whole
Listen oh child of the chaos of life
Find solace in the silence of this place
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All the fear within you dies
In this place there are no lies
In a vampyric embrace our souls interlaced
The shallow breath of anticipation breaks
Let loose into me
Your hidden passion and ecstasy
Let loose your hesitation
Fall into this melodic embrace
Your memories fade as the moment unfolds
I see the dreams that you are dreaming of
I know what words you long to hear
I know your deepest darkest fears
The foreplay of love and desire
Fills you with need and ever raging fire
The charge of the savage woman is heard
Will is broken with an elegant word
With ravaged cry of...
If you don't sin, Jesus died for nothing.