(2014)
If it hurts, If it brings misery, Why does it happen again and again? How can so much
In a glen there stood an oak. A towering oak,
I wander the desert an empty jug my only possession. My water has long run dry, my lips now used to
The one I Love most. My outlet of reason, The voice through the phone. A mirror of sorts.
Do angels exist? Could creatures of endless grace of immeasurable beauty really walk among us?
Was I given a chance? Did I miss that which I have aimed
Of the Day. I want to feel alive. Whole. I want to know
This darkness in which I stand is void. I am alone with naught but my work… and naught but my thoughts. Though on occasion, he stands besi…
The oak had a song sung from its branches. A melody
I think I understand Why Adam took that bite. To throw away Eden, peace, love, God’s favor. Because, in the end,
Why is it that we say an act of cruelty is “inhumane”? When did that word...
Give. Everything. All that I own, All that I have owned, and All that I will own. My love, past, and future
First, A mistake. Quicksand. Second, A broken promise.
A pit of spikes A trench fill with mustard gas. A stiletto between the ribs.
When others see me, What do they really see? Is it what they want to see? Or is it me? Do they see misconceptions