Heal This Broken Heart – Original Poem

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This fragile heart resting in the hands of a wounded angel
Perishing to Earth to a fiery reality
Falling from grace, this child exiled from a land of innocence by the temptation of love, the lust for community, the longing to be touched

Forbidden by the maker to trespass on her milky white skin
She remained without the touch of another, soon to be betrayed

Now time has passed,
The wind has chafed
Touched in places never to be spoken
So taboo, she is blinded by the blank stare of rejection

Abused by words, by actions
Tossed to the ground by the wicked minds of gluttony

Like rain in the desert, she chases the dream of the imagination; yet only a dream

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Yearns for a warm embrace for all eternity
It is rumor started by the servants of the devil manifested by beauty only found on the outside of soulless fools

Now the darkness sets in
The fields scattered with broken hearts and fallen leaves

In all directions it is endless
No sign of life
No sign of love

Who is out there?
Who can heal this broken heart?

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Everything I Do – Original Poem

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I believe in you

Since the first verse of love sonnets swept me away, my heart belonged to the angels
I dreamed of you through those words
Visualizing a life of perfection in the comfort of your arms

I held you tight before our eyes met
I cushioned your fall with words of enchantment
Together we fell from this place to a fantasy

Rose petals covering cobblestone
Rainbows lighting the passage
Minstrels playing harps along the journey

Poetry
Music
Harmonious rhythms

All written in the pages of our eternal tale
Passed down from generation to generation

The purest of love stories
A narrative told from mothers to daughters
Fathers to sons
Lovers
Dreamers
Visionaries

From the dawn of life, it is love that defines
Love that perseveres
Love is the symbol of moral justice and the strength of a thousand horses

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It is your love that carries the power to move mountains
To fuel this heart
It is your love that defines my being
Lights the candle that illuminates my soul
It is your love given at birth

You are the only gift I know
The only blessing that matters

You are the faith I believe in
My words are only a humble offering of a feeling I cannot express

This is the Time – Original Poem

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First kiss
The earth shook
Skies open and free

A moment where time froze and our hearts beat so fast like two trains passing in the night

It was magical
It was pure
Childhood dreams become a reality

On the line, our future
At risk, everything

It is dark on this bed of greens under the stars that clarity is seen
In this darkness, I see the light of the future ahead

Hypnotized by your smile, I am weak
Knees shaking, mind at ease

In my arms you rest
I release you
Lay you back down on the ground
Head rested on this pillow of grass

Into that trance, I see all the memories of our past in a slide show of fondness
You saved my life with every frame
You rejuvenated my faith
You quenched my thirst for adventure

You are the inspiration that floods the page with these words
Every word for you.
Every scribe of the pen an ode to your power

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Mother provided a shelter
Father, guidance
Awakening, an enlightenment

But you
You are a foundation
A rock
A home

In you, I am everything
To me, you are my everything

I want to dance every moment on this Earth with you.
Together, into the Temple of the Lord we will dance in the clouds for all eternity

The word love is but an entrance to the power of our union
With this kiss, we become one with our mind, our heart, our soul and every breath a deeper union

This Guitar – Original Poem

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This guitar sits alone hidden behind its torn cloth home

Chipped and worn from a lifetime of serenades
Lovers born
Life created
Warm embraces on a rainy night

In harmony, this guitar would recite poetry with each chord
Eyes closed, its sound penetrates the soul

This guitar speaks to us no more
Once, it flourished
It was soothing like my Mother
Firm like my father

I miss the chords that aches with each heartbreak
Blood drawn fingers found salvation in the battle

We needed the guitar
For guidance
The music defined life
It was our teacher, mentor and caretaker

Does the silence matter?
Eternity in darkness void of music

It must never stop
Play this guitar
Play it loud
Play it long
Harmony, discord no matter
Just make it play

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If it stops
We stop

Romance dies
Hurt dies
Laughter dies
Caring dies

Lingering days turn to none

When the last chord plays, this guitar will have enough
It will not hang on
But we must

We are not alone
When long days turn to longer nights
The music will be by your side

There is No Tomorrow – Original Poem

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I should have told you that night
Under the sky
Beneath the pale moonlight
I hid behind the words
Behind the cold rain

I hinted with a kiss
Yet did not provide the answer you sought

I should have opened my heart and bled out the passion I felt inside

It fleeted away as you drove into the darkness

The speech still being recited over and over in infinite repeat

You are the one that heals my pain
The one that brings hope to my dreams
Brightens the dimly lit path of my future

You were sent to me by a force greater than I

I drink your lust
I cradle your humble comfort
I draw warmth from the kindness you wear so well

We dreamed together one night
Two minds lost in a surreal sea, together lost on this boat
Our minds found their way to each other
Fantasy met reality and we willed ourselves to a land of wonder and destiny

That night
That one fated night

We knew of a love so powerful we could not speak of it
We experienced a force so fierce, our fear held us back
We were comforted to an absolute peace

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I should have told you
Not once
Not twice
But every moment you breathe this Earth

I should have told you

She is the blessing the prophets penned
The tranquility where life and death meet

The perfect storm
The perfect love
The imperfect heartbreak

I should have told you
I love you

Scars – Original Poem

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Wherever I go, the scars remain
Embedded and tainted on this porcelain skin, rejected by time

These scars run deep, poisoning my blood and infecting my body
Each one a permanent reminder of the remnants of a battleground
Perished and torn
Defeated and reborn

These scars are dirty because they remind us of the purity of birth that is destroyed with the first breath of life

The celebration of life begins the countdown of the decaying path towards the gate of death

These scars remain on this war torn skin
I try to hide them as I press my eyes closed, but I still feel them
Each and every one

She lies next to me, touching them with her gentle fingers
I look away, crying
With tears so dry, she will never know
She will never open the door to the torture I have locked up inside

She wants to feel my scars inside of her
To know the story
To experience the mental longing I feel

The scars tell a story
Each one poignant and sad
The pages turn; the scar remains

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Forever
A permanent tattoo not welcomed
Not invited
Not leaving

The screaming inside my mind is so loud
With a sharp edge I cut away these scars
Blood flowing over
Cleansing away the imperfection with life’s fluid
Dripping off my body
My vision lacks clarity, but I am free

Final Curtain Call – Original Poem

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This is not my final curtain call
My swan song
My journey to the infinite sea

This is not my last goodbye to you

It is still now
The clock strikes zero in a silent chime

Clouds break, exposing a sky filled with millions of candles unlit

I hear you all clapping from your seats, but the sound does not reach me
Deep in the aisles and balconies as far as the eye can see
We are not on the same plane
Parallels collide from every direction

I take my bow
Look to my left, I see a dusting of yesterday
To my right, black shadows

In front, a lifetime of appreciation
In the dark corners, cemented in guilt and regret, statues holding the checklist of my journey

Each day recorded, observed, categorized and examined

The silence now haunting

This is not my final curtain call

I will not let that heavy fabric fall from the gallows and blind me from you

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The script has no more words
I demand a rewrite

On the ground, the pen waddles
Ink still dripping from its desperate tip

So much pressure
No direction
No guidance

This is not my final curtain call

It is a call
An awakening
A new hope