Raphael Amorous Cead

</>To the girl I don’t even know
You smiling face in this dark day
The way you walk proud and free
Your spirit has impacted this poet’s soul
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She takes my heart for a lifetime,
And gives me hers for a second.
This hourglass makes Time so slow,
Yet this incident makes life fade to an end.
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Self-preservation-
Noun
Protection
of oneself
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Blind men see the truth,
Deaf men hear no lies,
Lame men do not terry,
Dumb men argue not,
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Here we make our stand,
or we fall to the depths of Hell,
Here we may fall in love,
surrounded by the villainous and corrupt,
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Rebel of socities' rule,
life in it's truest form.
So shy looking at times,
yet so outgoing and lovely.
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What attracts me to her,
I do not know.
Is it her laughter,
Or her kind words?
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we may find ourselves on a vile trail,
with wisdom and courage we must face,
not to be consume by burn pyre of Hell.
To leave our sins and guilty behind
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I looked at my life through the eyes of a stranger,
saw a pitiful child who lost his way long ago.
So sad and annoying to keep the people away from the problem,
Sobbing in the corner of the crowded room full of scoffers.
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Opportunity at enjoyable occasions,
and the saddest lonesome nights.
The feeling of not being tied up or down,
even when the storms lift you into chaos.
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What a beauty words are
Language flowing from our tongues
Like ice down bare sweating necks
Or fire burning into a chaos of ash
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Drip dropp drip drop,
Water falls into the sea.
Lone lovers fall into nothing,
We fall into chaos of this world.
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Let us melt all these troubles,
leave this inconsistent repetition.
Waste away in our desires.
Can we not fall?
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Her heart is abused once again,
by a man who doesn't understand her.
She deserves the world,
yet this is all that she has found.
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We were all made as crystals from God,
But we fall into the ground covered by muck,
Over time the dirt sticks to us,
And we lose are natural gleam.
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His bones are broken,
and joints cease to work.
This body of his is lifeless,
and is an empty vessel.
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A rose for the first,
A note from the next,
A tear for the third,
A kiss for the other,
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When He first formed me I was perfect
But He forget, I was perfectly alone
Then she found me and took this broken man
Orchestrated my joint into motion of lies
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Love is nothing more than,
A book of half-truths,
Bound with a thousand lies,
Containing pages stained with tragedy,
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As a gentle breeze in a quite meadow,
or a delight rain in a small valley,
love seems to comfort us,
in the midst of trouble it guides us,
...