Lilacs

The lavender petals fall softly upon her
Asking her to indulge in the sweet smell of ecstasy
The rose, they say, is a symbol of love
But how can she turn from the delicate lilac?

Asking her to indulge in the sweet smell of ecstasy,
Succulent petals caress her face,
But how can she turn from the delicate lilac?
She wants to give in to temptation.

Succulent petals caress her face,
A cool breeze plays with her golden curls,
She wants to give in to temptation.
The silent petal of lust speaks to her.

A cool breeze plays with her golden curls,
She needs the satisfaction,
The silent petal of lust speaks to her,
She wonders what it says.

She needs the satisfaction
Of knowing the secrets untold.
She wonders what they’ll say
The gentle figures form around her.

She knows the secrets untold
And slowly gives her hand
The gentle figures form around her,
They glance as she walks toward them.

She slowly gives her hand.
A look of relief touches her face
They glance as she walks towards them
And with a rose, he proposed a toast.

Criminal Infatuation

Walking in silence,

In pure

i m m e r s i o n.

I notice leaves,

Blooming,

Concerning me.

Concerned for me.

And for my safety.

The white cross,

Burned.

Signs of their past.

I imagine

The violence,

The terror.

They plan their lives around the campfire,

Only in silence.

I smell the smoke,

Smell the terror of extremists

Who say they are Christians.

But I know better.

I know they live in terror.

Never knowing,

Never finding,

Never knowing

Who they are.

They are the lies of the world.

Dead, but still walking,

They torture.

They kill.

And they hate.

They hate the ones who call themselves Christians.

They hate their brothers.

And their sisters.

They hate their skin,

Their hair color,

Their language,

And their souls.

They do not understand hypocrisy.

Their “acts of God.”

They live in fear.

In concern for no one.

Not even each other.

They kill each other,

Unsure of their true intent.

Their true meaning ,

Mere existence symbolized by

The white cross,

Still burning.

Charred around the edges,

Little sparks flying from it’s middle.

Staring at me,

Telling me to join them.

To join them as a Christian,

As a brother,

And as a sister.

But I know they are none of those.

They are murderers.

Full of hatred,

And fear.

Fear of life,

Fear of death,

Fear of losing.

They die only when then last spark

…b u r n s  o u t…

In silence.

Silent Fame

She walks silently
No one knows where she goes
Floating, gliding through the moonlight
She is not dead, but rather forgotten
Slipped through the fingers of faith
Pushed towards solitude and eternal silence
The outline of her sulken body
Once full of life and gracefulness
Now a meer recollection of what once was
Her body slowly fading and her mind
Still moving but not far behind
Scarred toes once flowing, gleaming
Just calloused, dented, useless
The life everyone dreams of on the outside
Only a story we never hope to live
Quickly alone and hard to breathe
Scraping for the next meal
If money is even there
Drugs, evil masters demolished all your soul
Grace and purity are things of the past
Electricity runs through veins outside her body
But not in
Asking for a way out
She reaches for the bottle, sparkling
She sneaks the jewel down her throat
for one. last. breath. 
...flying.