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Monthly Archives: November 2007

Majestic mistakes brought forth again
The outcome became the forecast
This perplexed idiocy that I rightfully am
Can I forgive myself of my past?

My personal horseman of blame
The master of residual guilt
This decree of my own damnable shame
The foreman of this crevice I’ve built

To view myself with utter disdain
To contemplate the enigma I am
The rant of my soliloquy, I cannot refrain
Dear Yahweh, can you forgive me again?

This record holder of tribulation
This knight of abundant trials
The gardener of sinful nature
Repentant, I foretaste your arrival


I have this passion for you that emblazons
the deepest pocket of my soul;
Unfaltering, I am yours for the taking.

The depths, the comprehension, the shear beauty
that continuously unfolds;
Days of dreams of you without waking.

This fierceness that soothes at the
very foundation of my essence;
Moved to drown in the mist of your eyes.

This unashamed, masterful, this astounding
aura of mercy commands my presence;
The mystery of heaven, within you it abides.

If I spit in your face would you rebuke me?
If I strike you, would you be defensive and retaliatory?
If I cursed your name would you forgive me?
If I had you put to death, would you love me?

Would you?

He loves no matter the hatred which burns.

He grants Heaven for unworthy souls.

Would you?

Her hair is like an autumn canvas,
swaying fluid like the trees.
Her skin illuminates,
like new fruits of spring.

Her emotions blanket the sky,
like clouds uplifting.
Where can you find her?
Quietly eclipsing my life.

Picture the flight of wings
A brilliantly illuminated butterfly
Graceful it floats as the wind sings
Eyes on it’s wings stare at a cloud laden sky

It’s glare can subdue the most tenacious creature
Tiptoes on the air so fluently
Envisioning butterflies, seeing her
The masquerade in multi-colored fields be stills me

Landing effortlessly on a violet wonder
Consummating harmonious beauty
Still magnificence that quiets thunder
It lifts peacefully away to dance for me

If only to have ears to hear it’s ambrosial song
Breathe the amazement of this cherished thing
A mesmeric easel to whom I belong
My love, my love, she is butterfly wings