Her unspoiled Love, mirror of her Soul, Bears no conditions, share with them all, Dare you mistreat her, question her call, She shelters Divine’s light, heals the world, For She was chosen to lead us, when we rise, or fall.  

Her laughter slowly died, deep darkness covered the walls, Her hopes diminished, buried under ashes black as coal, Her journey will take her toward her goal, Nature will guide her; through the light into a whole, Her soul mate uncovers the canvas of her soul.

Set me free oh heavenly Soul,Let me be, I may fall,Broken winged, I stumble, I crawl,Lightning fights dark shadows, bow wicked foe,Fearless, no sorrows, I follow my call.

Darkness, her Soul eclipses under dusky space, Blazing sorrow spans through her veins, leaves no trace, Dawn breaks, first sunbeam tenderly glows her face, Faithfully she prayers, guiding hopes upon each holy place, Lightness, her devotion shines through, inspired by celestial grace.

Bliss in her veins eternity flows, Dare she share it with lovers and foes, Human's hearts are mysteries unsolved, Nature’s soul is her inner world, Gentle Soul, her fragile wings blow,  “Namaste,” she whispers as her faithful heart glows.

Be at peace divine Soul, Surrounded bright light, as the night falls, Silently she prayers, echoes solitary halls, Tides raise darkness, as the angel calls, Distant rainbow awaken dreams and hopes. ~Doobie

Drowned in deep sadness, bathed in sea of despair, Struggles to trust her faith, accepts her loss, Fights to live her life, nurtures her hope, Sacred spirit, take her hand, guide her to a safe shore, For her Soul knows it all, her whole, her call.

Her sprouted Soul eternally grows, Her pathways manifest for them to follow, Resiliently she struggles upstream as she flows, Humbly she enlightens, inspires them all, fans and foes, Oh sacred spirit, guard her ways for she is our strength, our sole hope.

A lonesome Soul, searches for her call, Light sparkles over her life’s journey on the rise, Deceitful “helpers,” oh yes, they know it all, Never will she please them, nor fulfill nattered yearnings, For it is her life’s journey, only she bears the toll.

And the crowd roars, worshiping the hero , Above she stands erect , her gaze piercing lost souls , And the crowd bows , obeys the idol , Behold, she rises , her voice thunderously falls , And the crowd howls, swords and arrows , “Peace!” Her bleeding heart sheds hidden sorrow.

Its a blue kinda day Lost in that dark lonely place The outside wears a smile while I cry from the inside My muse rides me hard this morning I fight the pain from that door that is opening, that place that whispers to meIt is no shade of grey Words dance in my mindMy steps are slow, listening to that inner voice First thought is to flee from this place where my memory's roam Radio loudMy favorite songCoffee strongCigarett...

I grew up in a pessimistic family where my parents imagine the worst outcome in a situation and that outcome would always turn out to be true. At first I thought they were psychic and that they predicted the future but that thought went away as quickly as it came. It wasn't until I started to have negative thoughts myself, that things started to go out of control. When I started middle school, people started to bully me....

If on purpose, or by accident you keep pouring yourself into me like sand with water passing through it you think it’s leaching, leaching, leaching and filtered through while I don’t notice waves and salt, the sweetened dunes ----- with our respective anchoring grasses and all the loose bits, dampened you've left me dark and granular at risk of temporary castles----- with all the atoms clung together we’re stacked in dyad...

She was new, how could she have known? (Break up with her, have a fling, do something, back together again) The star quarterback. Handsome. Gentlemanly. Kind. Humorous. (The star quarterback. Monster. Acting. Angry. Dangerous.) The cause of the bill every month for PTSD counseling and her purity pledge being broken. (The cause of her pain, nightmares, and shame) She should have listened to the letter.

Is this a poem?I often wonder.Related statements,on one line and another,does that, fundamentally,a poem make?I take my time,I think of a rhyme I post it hereand drink a beer.It rhymes, it scans,but, really, it has no plans.Where will it all end, and am I completelyaround the bend? Will my words, my silly words,rend the reader to think they're turds?The words, that is,not the reader...Are my words,just silly turds?And sha...