Cain532

Upon the coming of the morning sun, I hope and pray that your work is done. Procrastination though convenient and fun is harmful to many for work what need be done. Simplicity thy name is seldom used, It is quite hard to speak to my muse. Mine ears and mind become quite a flutter, As I stumble with words with a meak and minor stutter.   Your work and mine shant be done soon, As we wait for the coming of the next night's moon.

What I see is a swing in a tree, and a quaint little house overlooking the sea. A boat and a dock down by the bay, Where we can go fishing for the entire day. I look over to her, and she to me, And instantly know we were meant to be. So here I am, with a swing in a tree, My love on my left, as we gaze at the sea.

What havocs rot the mind of man? They know not what they do or what they see through filtered eyes. They work and toil from day to day, The sweat from their brow further clouding their sight. Upon the days end, they know not if it is a beast what inhabits the body of man,     or a tormented soul inside an empty shell. They often seek the light of promise upon the horizon, A great light so pure it will cleanse the mind, And they will bathe in happiness with arms held aloft,     embracing the coming day. Where new trials wait, and more havocs what rot. The light of a new day Creates a clean slate someway.

Over the sea and across the sky, A Glimmer of hope travels. It's there for an instant barely catching your eye, Dancing through space filled with dreams. You close your eyes and with all your might, It flies through the nightonly for you as it seems. It dazzles the world as it carrie's it's plight. Your mind is clear as is the sky. As a glimmer of hope passes by.

A deep burning question that drives us all, "What will happen on the day that I fall?" Will I be reborn on this plain as a being of life, To live on again with a life full of strife? Or will I be sent into Heaven or Hell, Tortured or pampered leaving behind just a shell. Nobody knows what truly will be, But in the end we each shall see. Be it heaven or hell, rebirth and so on. We shall never know until we are gone.

I know not what I do, For fear of pain forced unto you. With demons of my mind at bay, I repeat these words night and day; I'm sorry for your pain, I'm sorry for your woes. May your mind be proclaimed as sane, With the power to vanquish the unseen foes.

My Legacy rests at the foot of my bed, It will probably be there, even after I'm dead. Scraps of a story, countless poems, and drawings galore, You are welcome to look and see what's in store. ~Who knows; You may enjoy what you read, If so then I have done a good deed. Until then it all sits at the foot of my bed, And there it will stay, even after I'm dead.

My love for thee shines brightese when I hold you close.     Close to my heart, enveloped in the warmth of our love. Our feelings alike, and our hearts become one.     We kiss as the world passes underneath the sun. All I am is because I met you,     My quirks my faults, and even my charm. To the end of days and even beyond.     My love for thee knows no bounds.