In the Dead of Winter [My Heart Fades]

This is "Winter Pastoral" as it was originally intended...

The snow blankets the ground
Deceiving my eyes to what is beneath
And the true landscape remains hidden.

[My smiling face is a mask to my soul
Deceiving their eyes to what is beneath,
And my heart is hidden in confusion and lies.]


The wind bites at my skin.
Its touch penetrates through layers of clothes
And my ears ring from its scream.

[Shame gnaws at my heart.
The effects of my life penetrate beyond me
And their hearts ache at my tears.]


The nights come faster, and stay longer.
Darkness falls over the land
And settles in our hearts.

[Hopeless thoughts are coming faster, and staying longer.
Darkness falls over my conscience
And settles in my heart.]


The winter is cold and lonely,
Fearful and dishonest.

[My heart is frozen and alone,
Afraid and confused.]

Winter Pastoral

The snow blankets the ground
Deceiving my eyes to what’s beneath
And the true landscape remains hidden.

The wind bites at my skin.
Its touch penetrates through layers of clothes
And my ears ring from its scream.

The nights come faster, and stay longer.
Darkness falls over the land
And settles in our hearts.

The winter is cold and lonely,

Fearful and dishonest.

Lost Soul

So much loss has killed my heart.
I got in too deep, too soon,
But eighteen seems too young to die.

So many things are gone
That will never return to me.
So much loss has killed my heart.

Friends, morals, respect, faith, hope –
There is nothing left to me anymore,
And eighteen seems too young to die.

They flew from my soul
Like sand through my hands,
So much loss has killed my heart.

I can only blame myself
For my untimely deathward spiral,
Because eighteen seems too young to die.

I gave these precious things away –
Parts of myself I can never gain back.
So much loss has killed my heart
Yet eighteen seems too young to die.

World Most Evile

This poem came from two inspirations:
Firstly, one of my all time favorite poems by one of my all time favorite poets - "The Hollow Men" by T.S Eliot.
Secondly, a fictional book mentioned in possibly my favorite fictional book of all time - "Secrets of the Darkest Art" in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows.

“This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”
World Powers and War
Do not comprise this Earth.
A cry from the Hopeless
Sparks a fight.
An utter from the mouth of Poverty
Reeks havoc.
People of Darkness.
Nations of Sin.
What was created for Perfection
Has not one heart of good to claim.
Treachery, Scandal, Guilt and Shame.
Anger, Rage, Sorrow and Pain.
They creep over the globe like rampant vines,
Eager to choke out the light.

Identity Crisis

You can see my face,
You can touch my body,
You can hear my words –

But you don’t know me.

You can watch me as I cry,
You can feel my anger,
You can listen to me scream –

But you don’t understand me.

How can you get me?
When I don’t even get myself…

Untitled...

Touch me.
Hold me.
Burn me.
Break me.
I need to know you’re here, you’re there, you’re everywhere.
My love for you blinds me to your love for me.
Hurt you.
Leave you.
Loathe you.

Love you.

Kiss My Heart

You hold my stare,
And catch my breath.
Your hand slowly strays to know my hair.
I touch your knee, as you lean in.
Your lips on my neck;
Softly, Gently.

((How can I tell you about how you make me feel?
Your affection is selfless and sincere.
You never take, but always give.
Every kiss is like our first;
Always special, always true, always you.))

Your strong arms around me, pulling me in –
Pressed against you, I feel so small.
My eyes close when our lips meet;
Softer still, Gently yet.
I open my eyes and you’re staring at me.
My smile breaks our connection,
But your stare deepens our bond.