Buried under grains of memory. Isolated, tears catalyzing a heartbeat that ripen through time.
Afflicted by the unknown man,
Ones from you that ache the most, My blood!
“Now turn and walk! You S.O.B! I’m here to win you over.”
Eyes arise, terrified, A shining light to my surprise
In a growling voice, ” His soul can not be saved!”
What about my angel, who’s laying six feet over?
I questioned her in silence, my outsides showing tell,
This feeling of uneasiness, my feet on edge,
The same faceless person with strings attached. A puppet master scorned.
Is the reaction you got, the one you were expecting?
A flame suspended in the middle waiting for the fire’s fuel to ignite the soul, and release the power of a new perception.