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The End

In the hall you walk down.
Testing doors--which knob to turn?
Uncertainty is your guide.
In darkened light am I inside?

And I will wait
I will wait until the end (x2).

Room to room you pass by.
Knocking when the time is right.
I hope to find you inside.
My blackened soul needs your light.

Twisted ways we trace the end.
Reaching walls your heart runs still.
Blackened blood flows outside.
Your quiet light warms our room.

Give Me a Gun

Give me a gun for my nose is all runny;
my head is a poundin' and the day ain't sunny.
Pull the knife from out my head,
so frowns will turn to smiles instead.
This icky-sick day is going way too long.
I'd rather be at home smokin' a phatty bong.
or playing around with my giant *ong.


with sunset smile that melts my heart
like wax of candle i play my part
entrapped within her caring cage
entranced with late a coming age

cinderella she ticks her pace
those glowing eyes, that lucid face
for when my face draws on a blank
her ship will sail for fogless bank

with wanderlust i found her here
we needn't visit the word wise sear
i only wish to spend my days
lost forever in her gaze

after journey long over sea of blue
i know this trust is somewhat new
but please believe me when i say
you are my light--
my gleaming ray.

Reason Retains Sanity

Reason cannot retain its sanity
by remaining in the realm of rationality.
Even reason enjoys abnormality.

For irrational passions boil over;
a sign of emotional bad weather.

Exploding with the fury of insanity.

Test Versus Hands

"Let me introduce myself, my goods, and my services:"
No matter how much time I spend with you, it never seems to be enough.
In your company eternally, and it would be only a whisper cuff.

"Breathe the essence of my body and soul now in convenient travel size:"
The web-locked hands and entwined limbs tell the tale that few can hear.
For when I wake without you there I feel so incomplete.

The presence of your beating heart drives me with a rhythm strong.
But without the rhythm it's just not really quite right now is it?

For withered hands stumble through the tempered tests of time.
Barely making it out the cave into the light of day.
The tests are now behind us so the soulful bells will chime.
I'm sorry that these beating lines pound a drone cliche.

"'In conclusion I have found...' is never the way to end an essay:"
My only hope is that these words may draw your cheeks a grin.
Cuz with that hell beneath the waves the seminar shall begin.

The hands that kept the rhythm strong grew weak from such a test.
Test has reached its final breath and hands now soak in clean caress.