Fleeting

The city is lonely, getting off work, and looking at the far dark distance, 

Lights hovering to an almost black ocean, 

And the wind beckoning me. 

A search for peace 

Leads me to the memories in her 

I had to let go...

And I sit back and let it fall into me, how she will be gone soon, like Summer..

And just like I predicted. 

But, she only comes In, 

After him, 

As I read the night sky, 

And sigh, 

Knowing it never had to come to this. 

So instead, 

I walk out alone, from a job I tell myself to be grateful for..

And I repress the fleeting feeling, that longs, for the suffering to be eased. 

Companionship, the cure to a droning society...

But it is no cure for me. 

Just like, it almost feels, 

There is no place for me either. 

I let it be fleeting- knowing it's all something I have to let go. 

Also knowing, 

That's all I know, 

And I'm tired of ripping pieces from my soul, only to watch them leave. 

No other choice but for it to be okay. 

What it was, wasn't love anyway. 

Become

As time slows, 

I rush, less and less...

And the things that once mattered, find a hollowness..

And as time rushes, I slow...

Knowing all points have receded...

For there is something deaperate in the air, the kind that calls for something needed. 

And the needed thing, may never occur, 

In just one night alone..

So as I slow..

I make such a place, 

For what's needed to become my soul. 

The Invisible War over Earth

Opening your eyes to evil; 

All the things that were masked. 

Waking up, in a similar bed, 

But the world turning differently now, 

And fantasies, 

And fantasies, 

Are lucid torments. 

And you, and you, 

Play...

And Angel's stake, 

Watching with you, 

The demons play..

The demons feed...

The war a thing Human's rarely see...

'Til one day, 

You arrive in a similar bed, 

And become blinded by the light, 

Or raised by the Lucifer they have framed, 

Up on the cross, 

So long ago... 

Now watching you bestow 

Glorious images in his name...

Yet gone, by another. 

You call Lucifer, Christ, 

And Christ he is indeed, 

As the nations run spilled over with blood, 

And how, 

And how, 

The demons feed, you ignorant fools. 

Waking up...

Is deafening. 

Nowhere to be, no thing to do, understanding wiped 

From everything that was. 

Waking up is Deathening..

Deathening. 

And they will never know, 

The puppets, the agenda...

They will simply tally back in spellbound motion, 

As they are fed enough, but never the right thing. 

And the moment came, alas..

As the moment the angels were waiting for in her history...

The moment that could make or break her...

And she woke up blind..

Realized, 

In why it all hurt, 

So much. 

The war, was real. 

http://youtu.be/-setoH6PZG0

Author's note:  the link is sited that was inspiration for this piece. 

As a psychic, I feed on signs and the beyond. As a prophet, not self-proclaimed, but self understood, all I can do is share in words, deeds, and actions on behalf of the "lightworkers" agenda. 

In understanding what is being masked to us, we will wake up, more than they can bare, (the darkside agenda and "agents") and we WILL THEN remember our inate power so BRIGHT, 

Darkness can "reign" no more. 

#educate

As Mean as You Seem

Dear man...

I love you. 

Perhaps I always did. 

Perhaps I always will. 

You will yourself at me. 

Towards me. 

Against me. 

I play, because indeed, a victim may fall in her own innocence;

A heart unriddled. 

And though I love you, 

It is my love 

That will not succumb, 

Though you think I have. 

We both, can play and say. 

We both, also know what lays deep. 

You, 

Push me to leave me, 

And I watch and let you, glad. 

We both know. 

We both know we love me more than that. 

I, also, love you more than that. More than letting you, 

Hurt me. 

It is a foolish heart, that believes in you, my sweetheart. 

But what a smart heart, to know, it is not the time, and I am not the one. 

I love you. 

Maybe you understand what I mean. 

Like how loving you, could also be the worst thing for me, if we let you inch any closer. 

So, I even love you for looking out for me, as mean, as mean, as you seem. 

The Way of Snuff

Trying to lighten loads, 

I've lost myself. 

Maybe, 

That's why it dawned on me to day. 

How, if the world is a dark place, 

Then representing the light will be an arduous journey, 

Not a simple one. 

Not an easy one. 

Not a "light" one. 

Not even, necessarily a happy one...

Especially, 

If the light is my only mission, in the darkest of place, 

Where all who gather, 

Seek to snuff it out. 

Then...

I imagine, 

To be tracked, 

Becomes the only way. 

The Road

I feel lost. 

Not hopeless...

But near. 

Still turning my wheels with a roaring engine...

But is there a cliff towards which I vere? 

My soul, is tired. 

My body aches. 

My heart, broken...

My aim, wandering..

More and more...

It's wandering. 

 

And before 30, 

I make that turn, 

No end in sight...

Fear..

Takes over again. 

Shelter. 

Safety. 

Hopelessness... 

Fatigue. 

My insides, weary. 

I take that ride, 

But it slows and stops. 

I'm lost. 

The Around

There is a love, 

In the vast magnitude. 

And yes, 

In the smokey air, 

Or even our blood...

When we sit, 

Indeed, 

It is there. 

Perhaps being the only REAL thing...

That will ever matter. 

Saturated

In the night, will I hoop into you, 

Or roll over you? 

Will I refrain, victim every time, 

Oh Powerful Dauntress to do my mass. 

Drunken spill-iards, 

Shade the cloud of a longing that has become saturated

With understanding to it's own light

And the shadow of it's existence. 

Nothing will make sense where things are let go, 

So go, 

Let go...

All over the place

, 

And sturdily.

In an ease of transmotion, 

The grace we sweep under the rug, 

or fain to break away in example of something truer; 

Like innocent grace.

And innocent succession. 

Submission. 

Disgrace. 

It is a line greyed, with grey entity; 

Loved over after a lifetime, 

And left floating, adrift, 

Amidst moonlight currents, 

And chanting seas, to a mapled time lapse recognition. 

So I...

Adrift 

To the enchanting rolling winds and float with hair in air

And hang suspended 

Hooping, hopping into time.

Vortex, after vortex, 

In saturated, 

Channeling 

Stream. 

As I am the current...

And the current is me, 

But then there is a body that is dancing, 

And I am that too...

All spilled. 

All over the place. 

Composure Carnival

As I break it 

Open, I see that what was 

Is, no longer. 

What resides instead 

Is a composure, 

Comprised 

Of balloons. 

Carnivals..Fantasies, ...

And delicate affairs, 

Ever to be tampered with, 

'Til the cat" loses her sight. 

The cages hold beasts untamed...

Things we can not name or claim, 

To be domesticated. 

Balloons Pop. 

Don't get too close to the cage. 

Balloons pop.