An Elephant with wings.

The vagueness comes
Like a blanket of dusk.
The lines that defined my character
Fade into grainy horizons.
I've lost my place,
Like an elephant with wings.
I can neither fly
Nor live in peace on land.
My weights destroy all hopes of flying
And my appendages break
All dreams of normality.

Hair falls.

I love the way your hair falls.
You put it in a ponytail,
But a few strands refuse
To be captured.
They dance across your head
Falling around your ears,
And sticking up from your bangs,
And resting in two little curls
On the back of your neck.
Your hair is free and beautiful.
Just like your heart.

Dust

The razor words cut sharp,

And i turned to dust. 

I don't have the strength to be a man tonight,

So i'll just lie here 

Piled high;

Lacking courage to even take a breath.

Distressed and broken,

My soul is like a tattered sweater;

These words pulled my frayed ends 

To pieces.
Truth cuts past the bone and marrow
To a place in my heart I didn't even know
Existed.
A place of frayed and tattered dust.

Chasm.

The brink calls to me
As a yawning chasm of welcome.
The day presses heavy.
The night calls cooly
From behind the luminescent curtain
Of sun-rays.
Peel back the curtain,
Bring me sweet darkness
And silver starlight.
Open to me the canyon of
Drowning.
Open to me.

Gallantry rides a horse made of cardboard.

Gallantry rides a horse made of cardboard.
I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the only reason
Dashing princes wear alluring armor
Is so they can blind your eyes with the light
Of their own arrogance,
And shield themselves from vulnerability.

You possess yourself with an honourless view
Of knightly honour.
Armor shining,
Your prince attacks the horrid dragon.
You didn't see the blackened flagon
Of selfish ego he consumed with
Violent intensity.

Gallantry may have a quaking sword hand
Sometimes.
Not because he fears the dragon's
Fiery eyes,
Or because of the blinding, soul-binding hate
He hears from the scaly creature's
Cry.
He shakes because he sees you.

The dashing prince may carry himself
With perfect poise, and
Dashing dexterity
While i shiver on my
Soggy, saddled beast of burden.
But gallantry does not cover itself in
Unscathed armor,
Rather, it destroys it's armor to
Become vulnerable for you.

Dusty Ruins.

I built cathedrals in my heart.
I made the spires perfect.
I polished the golden wood altars
Until they sparkled like the moon.
It was only then that I heard
The empty wind howling through
The hallways.
The emptiness rippled
And shook the deepest of depths.
My cathedrals fell,
But it was then,
In the dusty ruins of my experience
That I found you.

Mezzo Cammin

Here is a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, a nineteeth century romantic poet. This poem was written halfway through his scriptural allotment of 70 years. The title comes from the first line of Dante's Divine Comedy, it means, "midway through the journey." Lines one through four refer to the fact that he had not fulfilled his youthful aspirations of literary grandeur, (his works became famous towards the end of his life); lines five through eight refer to the fact that it was not his youthful flaws that kept him from his aspirations, but the sorrow that came with the death of his wife (line seven), lines nine through twelve refer to the fact that in mid-life, he can look back on the past, as "a city in the twilight dim and vast." lines thirteen and fourteen refer to the sound of death he hears in the future. This  poem inspires me not to let my past mistakes and past sorrows mar the brightness of the future.

                                              Mezzo Cammin.
              1. Half of my life is gone, and I have let

              2.     The years slip from me and have not fulfilled

              3.     The aspiration of my youth, to build

              4.     Some tower of song with lofty parapet.

              5. Not indolence, nor pleasure, nor the fret

              6.     Of restless passions that would not be stilled,

              7.     But sorrow, and a care that almost killed,

              8.     Kept me from what I may accomplish yet;

              9. Though, half-way up the hill, I see the Past

             10.     Lying beneath me with its sounds and sights, --

             11.     A city in the twilight dim and vast,

             12. With smoking roofs, soft bells, and gleaming lights, --

             13    And hear above me on the autumnal blast

             14    The cataract of Death far thundering from the heights.