Xayvien's Mind: Poems, Ballads, and Such.

[Streleks]

A place where I'm going to post random writing I have done, whether it be old or new, or something I just made while drunk. A lot of this varies in emotion and is posted in no particular order, some are incredibly short while other poems are much longer. Just find a title you enjoy and see if it's worth reading. I have most of these posted on another website, stamped, and dated. Decided to post them here, welcome to my mind, enjoy your stay.

WARNING: Keep in mind these are old poems. Some of the terms are questionable, and some are dedicated to the relationship I once had with Sylver & Tanjah. Each of these are public on Deviant Art and were taken from that website for here.

"One True Fire"

Oh why this siren calls,

Voice echoing endless through the,

None existent halls.

Voice almost shrieking, with beauty always heard.

The cruellest mistress ever,

One which was never truly born.

Her voice echoes across my mind,

Her vision blindsides neither eye,

She's burnt her image inside my mind,

Burning hotter than the sands of time.

Granite tears speckling the ground,

Covering memories never to be found,

Oh how endless souls have drowned,

Within the world they're never found.

Her beautiful orange far beneath my feet,

Buried beneath all of us while her smile still gleams,

Marvellous shards of what never was,

Dusting my very soul clean of golden rust.

Her masquerades will never cease,

Puppets tugging the very strings of my memories.

Who was I before she graced my sands,

Who am I know that my life has no more strands,

Her endless mane that I once touched,

Running through my fingers like the golden rust.

Softer than silk her voice heeds my call,

Harems with swords protecting the false halls.

Truly her existence is all but a lie,

Only then could something so beautiful have died.

I watched from the window the sun never rising,

But setting aside my life traumatizing.

She obviously longer for my graceful ballet,

Silken winds ripping careless skin away.

Oh the cruellest of all mistress',

Both longing and uninterested,

With breaths long since resisted.

To breathe in her soul would be to cleanse my mind,

Turning to fire my very heart, and my hidden pride.

Destroy me now once I grace your skin,

The embodiment of endless, beautiful,

Suffering sin.

When you caress me for the last of all times,

Remember I came to you for the final dance,

And whisk me away into the endless trance,

But be kind for I wish not to be harmed,

Just suffocate me within your orange arms.

Oh cruel mistress, both bewildered and dead,

The sand has formed the silk around my neck.

Place me upon the highest of thrones,

Push me down and let me hang alone.

You obviously despise what it is you always see,

Because with you above we all how could it never be.

Cruellest of mistress', powerful hearts of men,

Shattered like the speckles of glass lost within,

Just collect us all now, and leave us to blend,

Perhaps then we can form the false image of Heaven.

Your skin is the glass that breaks us apart,

But your bones are the shards that tear us to threads,

Please unleash me now from my mortal of coils,

Bring me to your skin which only trusts the most loyal.

I cannot lay my hands upon you, not without pain,

For your skin is only touched by a crying mans rain,

The oases formed from drought and restrain,

But the endless tears will fill them again.

Oh my love, you shall never belong to me,

You are endless, powerful, and deeper then the sea.

You whisk innocent men to their barriers of death,

While watching those curious in their Harem of dress,

Great men have been lost, but great women are born,

Pain through the tears shall surly show more.

I wish to be part of you, and your beauty or lore,

To be part of the stories those are yet to unfold,

Oh please my mistress',

Oh please my beloved,

You're no longer here, but you are my echoing Dove,

That will guide me to destiny with the supporting of love.

Please for one more fable,

Give me permission, allow me to be able,

To cross your eyes, to gain a second glance,

To earn my right, my destiny, my final dance.

Please bring me to you, my beauty, my storm,

I do not care how your loving arms leave me torn.

You will destroy me, tatter, and bring pain,

All I want is to once again know your name,

To hear what it is to be locked within,

To feel what it is to be trapped with sin.

Oh please my love, reunite me with you.

You're my beloved,

You're my sin,

You're my beginning,

You're my end,

You're my destiny,

You're my mistake,

You are my home,

You are my heartbreak.

But most of all you are one thing,

And this is the truest,

You are the one thing I will always be,

One thing I desire,

You are one thing I can never be,

And you are my endless desert fire.

"Mourning, Noon, and Knight"

Dear melody of an unforeseen sun,

Beginning of the end is the truth for unlimited fun,

In the endless sky,

That’s more than enough to make me ask,

Why?

To an infection among men that’s a toy,

Among the many expendable coins put into the machine,

Brought out to ignite and burn into a solar flare,

A blasting radius of chaos within broken requiems,

Just drowning in the sins that have always since began,

As the remaining moon would desperately sing,

During the time it was meant to begin.

So as to why the unforeseen sun does drift above,

Goggles a mere image of the casing that’s upon,

The remaining hint of crimson scattered over dirty plains,

But it’s just a matter of how those whom master this game,

Express their darkest demons within.

It has been a long time since that night did ring,

When my mind was broke and my shadows did sing,

And I ignited my rage into strikes upon my own skin,

Carving the image of true born poetry into the mortal sin,

As much like me it would decompose again.

So it’s been going upwards down a collapsing tower,

Repairing the gears that remind me of the years,

Where innocence was just another word for intriguing fear,

However the words are woven over the stitches in my skin,

I feel that I will remember myself as I was then,

Not for fear or degradation of mind, spirit, or insanity,

But simply because it was where I all began.

Building this tower around myself to hide the memories of my past,

The angel taken from this world and spilled into the sea,

Buried into the Earth,

And never shown remorse.

I hate what I became and I hate what I have become,

A jealous, loathing, and less then hospitable scum.

But that is not what the world does indeed see,

They see the creature bent on the humiliation of all that is me,

Mocking those I dislike for actions I repress,

And sins I have many times prior to this have commenced.

So let’s wake up from this bittersweet symphony,

Close our eyes,

Focus tight,

And just realize,

That this is life!

An experience bound in travesty and angst,

With the flesh and bone only being a factor of control,

Whereas the mind itself is under severe turmoil,

And even as I am relinquished from my own hatred,

Rage,

Jealousy,

Confusion,

Modesty,

Ego,

And spite,

I find that it becomes harder to ignite what is most definitely,

Right.

It’s not so much I regret my choices,

If only I’d worked harder I could have turned the tide,

I could have opened up doors I otherwise wish I could scribe,

To perhaps master a trade which is thought after by the world?

Could one be self deluded into denial?

Perhaps the four corners of the world I have long since forgot,

The forest,

The ocean,

The snowy peaks,

And my darkening rocks.

Forever in this luscious state,

Where the idea of porn is the fetish of Queen’s,

Being in power for the sake of the cake,

Which until now I was forsaken to have ate,

But I now close this little snippet of angst,

Shutting the case and sealing the chamber point blank.

As I progress one step at a time until the bitter,

Bloody,

End,

I wonder if it’s truthfully I, forsaken by sin,

Or my own degradation of what makes me who I am,

For fear not!

The gateway has since closed a bad trademark of the past,

And as I refresh my mind, body, and spirit, I scribe!

Not out of hate, desperation, or attention for touch,

But for the one simple sake that this is enough,

Enough is enough,

It’s all a matter of opinion now,

For one good fuck.

To clean my mind and awaken a new,

To cleanse myself from what was once withdrew,

And open my eyes to another new world.

Not one missing details,

Crude,

Perfect,

Sharp,

Or chaotic, but simply, modest.

In of itself a simple goal for those whom dream,

But when a dream is a nightmare,

And a nightmare is a dream,

Does it even mean the same for when I scream?

Need not, want not, dislike, repair.

I’m just here to keep the tower from her,

To keep me from her, and myself away from death,

As I have a lot of work yet to do.

A life that’s not set in stone,

Bone,

Blood,

Or pain.

Just a world where I am not insane,

But I world where I am,

Me,

Again.

"Downloaded To Downgrades"

There was a joke today that ended with the wondering of curious inhabitants of my own mind. Sure, I wore color at your funeral of falsely blessed and biased opinions, but what did it truly mean? Surely my mindset isn't reduced to the commonplace fantasies of once velveteen scales that are now too far uninhabitable by mankind. Like the hearing of one's echo softly bouncing from a heartbeat that stands still.

Sure there are many other reasons for such provoked emotions to stir in an otherwise calm mind. Becoming shallow and pedantic can only last so long, someone has to continuously reduce themselves more to reach this new low. Standard grade issue poetry for a teenaged mindset that deludes being ignored for personal attacks. Pixelated empires capturing otherwise unspoken emotions in the gladiator math magician's heart.

Certainly my blatant humour couldn't startle unwanted emotion in a noble Canine's heart. One reason I refuse pursuit for he's not restricted to desires in our realm, and can seek nourishment in an isolated 3D casting of ideal lust. I have a mindset towards not at all seeking advancement along with others. Not only did I download my heart in this false world, but I realized the constant reoccurrence of falling for a taken hand. His eye can see the world, both of which a treasure, one of which turned blind.

Oh the irony of it all, I'm wearing color to a funeral.

"Not Following Orders"

I was labelled a shadow in recent events. Neither something nor Heaven and Hell desires, but consists of the desperation to follow another for survival. Adding just a teaspoon of sunlight and glory to created an ignorant image of a woman's desperation to hide true meaning. Sure I myself can see possibilities of a female personality trait, all of which are visible to the world as my desire for peace also obtains.

I don't wish to be taken into the clutches of a maniacal machine which only intends to aim towards the moon. Firing one trickle of desperation in hopes of raining the world in an otherwise shattered petal of glory. I remain carved in gold, but etched in coal and tranquility. Like a piece in life's cruellest game of chess, in which my biggest choice was allowing others to make them for me.

Advancing across the board in a false idea of what true dreams could be. Clambering together a desperate attempt towards spreading once soiled wings, and reaching towards the Heaven's. Surely with the loss of so much I have nothing but advancement to gain. My success is based truthfully on those I work alongside, and how I trust them to respect my choices to be left alone. However, much like the pieces on the chess board, there is one problem.

I cast the faint image on the ground beneath where I walk, that makes others think, I am simply stepping into their shadows.

"Holding My Tongue"

So if I speak there is a sudden malevolent presence which envelops me. This same malevolent force in which I cannot interpret more than my own tongue. How the commonplace desires of a man best left for dead can lead towards unwanted temptations. The ideal placement of one's lust being rejected, and directly replaced with the ironic bantering of those he cannot stand. The hot sword piercing the hearts of those it strikes, but breaking all those it avoids into shards.

I write my ideas of true lustful ambition down onto the tapestries in which my laws are limited. In the realm of the unwanted and obnoxious limits are served only to my lack of understanding in which I hold. The caress of a baron pairing of hollowed out arms seems otherwise unwelcome, and for whom I hold courtship towards shall remain unnamed. Once I grasp the true intentions of my own mindset I can willfully give back towards the accepting partners. I refuse them on behalf of my own sanity.

If a Dragon's scales can reflect anything into the eyes of man I'd scoff. Curiously wondering what exactly my scales reflect into the eyes of others. Do they even see me, do they even acknowledge me, or see their reflection? Does this knight in a shining coat of protection ambition even enjoy my presence? Could she simply see me as a mirror, reflecting the image of her back, could one be so vain?

I am not here to be your mirror, but stand up for what I believe. If this cannot be enforced then all I become is the icon of your own self delusion.

I will simply hold my tongue.

"My Last Transmission"

I thought to myself last night about my many overzealous misfortunes. When questioned on my outlook on life I state that it's what my bridge remains to happiness. The thick stench of despair might coat the jacket which keeps me warm, but I swear not to let such things keep me back. Darkness can only shroud those easily manipulated, but it takes true madness to resist the temptation.

I once had a goal in my life to be in the arms of the most powerful and malevolent of mistresses, but my desperation for strength proved otherwise. Forever marked in the eyes of those around me as the monstrous deduction of what true enslavement can create. To those around me who judge on appearance see an apparent cold outer shell, refusing to examine closer in towards what truly remains.

I might be a mixed up ambition towards what all Dragon-Kin may be, but in regards towards madness I don't have a whole lot. The mindset which echoes through the deep confines' of my mind is that of sanity, bliss, and ignorant happiness. To be held again in such powerful arms only strikes a question of the abandonment I feel now.

But then again, I'm just thinking to myself.

"Harem's Guide"

The once Harem garbed that chokingly grasped around my neck like the ironic twists in a Shakespearian play. I admire my own endeavour while I await to this day the unforgiving restraints of another. The tether around my neck wrapped not in suicidal anguish but to draw me away from those who'd have wounded me. Precious scales lined with jewelery and chains, but painted softly with a queen's treatment of nectar.

Tongue eagerly awaiting another taste of wines otherwise unfit for a man of my standards. Tossed aside, if not beaten thoroughly beforehand and left with the markings of the self delude anger of an owner. Branded, scarred, beaten, broken, and rewarded with care up until the point boredom had struck. Temptations outside of the partnership gifted with a foul tongue.

Seeking the enslavement that once drove me towards horrible crimes seems hypocritical. Like the sands that blaze through the desert and brush up against the queens scales. Brushing along the strands of precious crystal like the touch of a feather. Reflecting back towards me the image of what a pathetic man led by temptress' foul mind can create.

I still wear my Harem garb, but for whom, I might never know. Perhaps my dedication outlasted even my own desires. Just string me up again, and make me wait.

"Don't Use Batteries"

Aclockwork mechanism powered by self deluded hatred manifested into the well being of an otherwise anti social illusion. Wrapped in the content of an odd shaped but manipulative reality which is solely based on the idiocy of others for profitable gain. The shattered tongue behind the ill spoken truth of a man blind to the world, but unable to see everything but what ranks in endless wool.

To pick at the scab of American society long enough to drain the blood and well being of a pendulum swinging overhead. The cold hands of a dead lover embracing the ideal reality of what true suffering could never be. Hearts cannot be broken from the gain of profit, when love can be used for payout why bother with dedication. Once the chime reacts in the way which alerts stock brokers of false intentions, it's time for the endless quandary towards what I can sell.

No mans soul goes without purpose or guidance, and if my world is based around the help of others so be it. I'm not a rich person, nor would I ever be, my emotional struggle only aides those who are. I'd never manipulate someone into doing something for me, or pay someone to complete a task I'd otherwise avoid.

I'm not a clockwork mechanism, I'm the one working behind the gears and managing the cogs. Eventually if I ever stopped functioning I'd wonder how the rest of us would react.

Replace me, tick, tock, buzz.

"Painting The Moon"

I had a dream I painted the moon. It looked down at the ocean which turned to grains of sand. The caressing breath of the wind reflected gracefully the masquerade of dancing lovers. Masked only by thin white feathers that glided elegantly across the cheeks of those whom smiled. An endless spiral of unity and beauty, which connected with the world in a wondrous outburst of emotion. Such magnificence can only be comprehended by the sheer emotion behind undrawn tears.

For when I longed a brush I did indeed paint the moon. A chocolate delight of ambition sweeter then mankind's undeveloped tongue could handle. The skies painted a beautiful sheen of blue, purple, and speckled with silver like the droplets of tears. I picked up the pencil, and sketched into my heart the image of a true lover's goal. It was drawn thin and the paper eventually gave into the weight of the world. My mind shadowed with ideas of whom or what I should have never been.

None existent children run through the halls which are now emptied. A heart which is now cold and beating still. The orange warmth of a butterfly lightly caressing the man encased within the ice, and releasing the images from inside. Black tornados vanquished, and tombstones left as markers of peace and wonder. Not sadness and transgression. The importance of myself slowly drawn out over time, and my protection of an eastern beauty slowly removed. I willfully crouched in my tears, but still do so now alone.

My brush painted the moon which was so far away. I inspired a world that I'd obliviously controlled, and became a part of. My home tattered and skewed forced my own thought out reality to recreate itself. Sadness drawn into the sweet taste of self loathing, and the brush cascading an image of angst through the cosmos. I now refuse to be reduced to such a low, and seek a companion to hold once again. Can I join you, I will protect you, and love is ours. Phrases once whispered into my ear, but almost removed from reality.

I lost my rose of crystal many years ago, her petals dropped and she was finally plucked. I still wish to say to her what I desperately want to whisper to another.

I'm sorry, and I will always love you. Now it's time for me to paint the moon.

"Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License."

"Characters & Stories above © RayvenHart."

[Streleks]

"Insert Coin Here"

We have all felt the obnoxious backlash of our own tongues,

When regretting the choices we haven't made once united as one.

The endless regretting of memories never fretting,

Like the broken threading of a needle that's always mending.

Just once would I like to understand what I had within,

Because like a lure I brought many towards diverse sin.

I'm almost certain I am not the only one at fault,

When I think towards the future it hurts more,

Then what I already have just lost.

Certainly I will look back upon these days,

Wondering what condemned myself towards this forgotten whim,

The endless showers of those that are free from sin.

My hand upon the window looking down among the many,

I created an empire that I myself could never understand.

Heart aching with no direct goal, but somehow managing,

To choke this world, to get a hold.

I look down and caress this industrial glass, coughing lightly at the past,

Tears never seeped through my own wounds, like glass protecting me from rain.

The small bullet sized tear drops from the skies, mocking me, and asking why.

I continue to gaze down at the buzzing vehicles far beneath,

Looking smaller from my perch then I made so many feel.

I'm not asking for a second chance, a third breath, or another shot,

Simply I'm asking not to be forgot.

Just how many pages do mark my chapters,

One at the beginning when I was clueless and innocent,

Another when broken and still mourning until now,

A third when enlightened and unable to comprehend,

A fourth with the finale, the dancing, and the wedding band,

Fifth with the choking, the hatred, and despise.

Sixth is not here, nor will be for time to come.

I wonder if there is a seventh, who knows?

What exactly condemned me to do what is done,

Which eradicated all hopes I had for reaching the sun,

Do I stop shooting, no I refuse, because no I load the chamber,

Shooting down stars has been so hard, when the gun is not loaded,

Accepting the light has been so hard, with my eyes locked closed,

Admitting to being wrong has been so silent, with my mouth sewed shut,

Hearing the truth was incomplete, with the parrot droning out the sea.

Do I feel bad for what I have done,

Of course I do but I'm not just one,

Many of us have made grand mistakes, and yet rebuilt them right underneath me,

A weight that was light as a feather, a breath that was not a noose,

But a loose hanging tether.

So what my angel did fall, for that I scoff and move on,

My light can never be brought to me with gray skies blocking out the sun.

Does the natural light amount for that I desire?

No, it does not, for there are no angels for hire.

My arms are not weak, my spirit and mind always were,

Stronger than the God's themselves, but weakened because of despair,

I disgraced many who never existed, forgotten many who slipped through the netting,

Spat against those who tried to commune, but broke those who accepted the truth.

I'm no more a man then a newborn child,

Only when newborn can one truly live,

And despite being brought back from the brink of extinction,

I always managed to break down my own recreation.

Snapped,

Torn,

Broken,

Sewn,

Only true fires are the ones never mourned,

Only true fires are the ones,

Simply reborn.

"Just One Shower"

Tick, tock,

Buzz, ting,

My mind is a series of cogs,

And listen to them sing!

Pop, fizz,

Twist, turn,

Spark, sizzle,

Grind, burn,

Silence I yearn!

For the years I have swallowed,

Covered in clockwork rust and sand,

Formed from the grinding of dried out cogs,

In an ungreased and untreated land.

Be careful where you step,

Because it may lead twenty floors below,

When you hit the bottom tell the workers,

To send you up if they're still whole!

My inferno deep within is covered in rust,

Like a metaphor for a furnace being my heart,

Brush away the ashes and let the heat once again start,

Maybe then I'll turn out to be a little smart.

Just brush aside the well ground dirt,

More to clean away then from the essence of Earth,

For digging from one end of the world to the other,

Would be easier than finding the fire within an inch of sulphur.

Pyros, goggles, sweat, and sin,

All of them buried it deep within,

But of course such elegance is just a whim,

Because without that I'd be too brilliant.

We all have flaws in our machines,

Those rusted cogs that keep us running,

But of course they're weakened over time,

And never underestimating the power of design.

Built upside down,

Broken right side up,

Insert the coin, pull the lever,

And let's restart!

Stamp the card, take a deep breath,

One more moment, and it's work again.

Too lazy to realize that there is nothing there,

Go down to the furnace and light a fire again.

The heart is weakened and needing of heat,

Something that's undesired when in defeat.

Push away the clouds,

Rinse away the rust,

Using a tank holding the self educed salt,

Protecting oneself from the tears within,

Binding yourself in mechanical brims.

The tears like a strong brine, rubbing the rust away,

Burning like acid, oh wait, there's the sun again!

Of course I forgot,

What could my true fire be?

When I write it's different then you think,

Because when explore my own soul deep within,

You never realize that I have no outer whim,

So I strive to move outwards, as I do inside,

My engineers working overtime, to clean away my mental grim.

Don't accept me right now, don't ask for resale,

We both know I'm a used model, and I'm being repaired.

Just one more cog to turn, maybe it'll be done.

Until then, beep, bop,

Fizz, pop,

And I hope you had fun!

"My Letter To Home"

So here we are at the end of the tale,

Maybe soon I will finally be able,

To do what it is I'm not meant to drawn,

In order to suppress what it is I'm concocted.

To write something again,

And again,

And again,

One more time,

Again.

I have all this inspiration, none of it real,

Only because I wanted to hide it, and make such a big deal,

So here we are expressing my mind, just several more poems,

Before I'm not so far behind!

I should have confidence, and resistance to doubt,

But of course I am weaker now, and vulnerable to the drought,

The sands, the beads, endless rocks beneath my feet,

Tail swaying gently in the breeze beneath, fur glistening blue,

With a smile formed with white teeth.

Certainly I am beautiful, cleansed, and rebuilt,

But I think of the cogs before me, and how they turned to rot.

Before him was another, and his empires built high,

Whether he existed now or then, he himself will never know,

But I know for a fact it's Paladin's he calls home.

It's the caves of his lover, beneath the infrastructure

Where the cogs can be repaired.

In the arms of a lover, and not the blades, or the hammer.

One man is only as strong as his goals will become, but even then,

The battle can never be truly won.

I venture now in sands ahead of my time,

But wonder my own place as I repeat this rhyme,

I belong in the stars, and the skies high above,

My brother before me the warmth, and protective shelter,

Of a lovers hold, and the stone of their keep.

The one before him, the Heaven of the God's, in the castles beyond ours.

Protecting us all, and united with the one,

That he felt he lost until the battles almost begun.

Certainly I, majestic and free,

Can find my own place within tranquility,

Gold along my body although I'm no Pharaoh,

Such a thing would be dangerous, and I'm far too careful.

Please accept this as my letter,

My tome,

My script,

To set myself free from the pain deep within.

I spread my wings of feather beauty, stronger then a Dragon's roar,

Lifting upwards towards the Heaven's, and holding her once more.

She is warm within my hold, and beautiful all the same.

She is my one, my truth, my Egyptian known goddess.

Her wings of gold decorated like a fan,

Spinning the sands above for the wanderer below,

The one in which all these stories are told.

He has the answer now, pushing aside all the darkened skies,

Even his Demon's want him to step into the light.

Those who are evil even have their strong sense of right!

So be careful when you drink from the waters and look deep within,

Because wanderer below this is for your wish,

When you stare into the reflection don't be surprised to see,

What it is you forgot when you tossed the rose to the sea.

You were never truly him, but only evolved from his creation.

Now wanderer, take a drink,

Your answer is within!

The beads on your tongue will clench your thirst,

And words the first true words of love.

"Found Angel Within"

The water splashes my tongue,

I'm so surprised that it stung,

But looking into the sun,

It reflects what I have done.

Behind me not a mirage, or an image of imagination,

But a beautiful patch of snow, within the desert hymn,

Spotted with stripes both tangled and web,

Designed with beauty, remarkable, and undesired swims,

Through the oasis of my own mind,

Where I lean back, accept fate, and dine.

From the waters not stained or dark,

With no man's hand guiding me deeper within,

The enemies of mine long over the seas,

United with those in which they gain no victories.

Rose tossed out over the sea, and left to break free,

Now my burning angel, unit with me, and set is both aflame!

Allow your power to break through me,

Allow my strength to unit you,

I don't want to hold you down,

Just use my power to get airborne.

The swimming fish within the oasis,

Remind me of how great life really is,

With their lives judge by the survival of this pool,

While mine is completely at the hands of my own rule!

Now go angel, be free! You are stronger without me,

We are stronger apart,

You have with me what I have without you,

A piece of one another's heart.

Now this snow behind me,

The beautiful chill in a desert most warm,

She vanished when I turned, but mountains took form.

Forest sprung to life and caves taken shape,

While the mountains opened almost like their mouths were agape,

I force them out, they're small, and scruffy,

Wings on my back that are humorously fluffy,

But of course also very funny!

These won't do, no, I'm not in a Harem's garb.

I toss aside my silks, chains, and imaginary chastity belts,

While forcing them out the wings of an angel,

And the guiders of a royal,

The heart signs of noble,

Blood of a warrior.

These wings do take form, but she is far ahead,

While I climb the mountains I do not slow my step,

I pass through the caves, the markings, and symbols,

That show me the past I was quite unable,

To ignore for so long but now they're pushed away,

Left to live their own lives another day.

I don't stress them now, and never will again.

Sylver, Rayven,

Daylis, Sylver,

Tannie, Tanjah,

Hawk, Scar, Satherim, and Dackin!

No matter how big or small a roll you may have,

No matter how useless your tasks or grand,

Despite all the adventures you all had,

Your freedom is here, while I step higher,

Putting behind me all their darker empires.

I push aside the stones, the branches, and thick vines,

Unclean or perfect, memories that are not needed at hand.

I continue to push, smell the air, and I can taste the sky.

My arms are sore, and my legs giving in,

I could stop here now, and be a mistake again,

But I refuse and push on, though mentally, I am strong,

My prior choices I will admit to being wrong.

The cogs are cleaned, silver, and shining,

The heart is warm, golden, and burning,

The mind is clean, like the waters of the fish,

Putting them behind me since for now they don't exist.

I smell the candles, the air, the loving, and innocent care.

Pashing the chambers of our previous views on love,

Immature and innocent until it became corrupt,

But I refuse to stop, even if it's surprisingly abrupt!

My legs are sore, and my wings expand to full height,

I fall from the mountain, right down the other side,

They spread like a glider overtop the island beneath,

I see them now, all of them, so clearly!

The nations, the people, the worlds, the adventures,

Because I moved on my own worlds are at peace!

I would be selfish to take that away, the burning sensation, the gentle warning!

Like a slap to the back of my head, and keeping me going,

Flowing,

Gliding,

Waving, and Diving!

Like when Tanjah would bop me, in the back of the head,

To correct my mistakes, or just be playful instead!

Whatever the case I am landing now, I see her on the crystal shores, far below grasp,

When I land beside her, I couldn't care less,

She might not want to ever be mine again,

But I'll hug her, and give her the sweet caress!

I'll tell her I love her, without being undressed.

I will show her the stars, and how beautiful they shine,

I'll show her the tears in both of our eyes,

When the skies erupt with a love long died,

This emotion, this pain, I don't want it again,

Neither does she, and nor shall she receive,

Anything from me but sheer loyalty.

She may refuse it, and she might never think the same,

But I won't either, since my mind is cleared again!

Like the oceans waters where below,

We swim through the crystals and raise our heads from above the sea,

Looking one another in the eyes of our bed,

Holding on another close, and knowing that we're meant.

To answer the question, yes it's true.

To answer your love, I do love you too!

From all four corners of what made me who I am,

All of them rested,

Planning for better sections!

From everything I am, and everything I will be,

Not once did I look into your eyes, and think they'd be taken from me,

But you did it yourself, to give me fair caution,

Now I'll love you forever, because you unlocked the concoction,

That lets out the beautiful, magnificent verses,

Which were so long gone I thought they were curses!

So many things we have left to do,

Fireworks from a pound, so simple, romantic, too true!

I love you so much, don't doubt that one breath.

When I wake up you'll be the first word from my tired, well deserved, rest.

I'll feel your breath against me,

I'll taste your lips when kissing,

I'll feel your heart when beating,

I'll feel your soul when aching,

I will clear your tears away,

Brush them back into yesterday,

I will be here for you today,

And have already been your best friend yesterday,

I love you while I hold you close,

My imagination making a real, breathing, ghost,

Because without you I wouldn't be,

Like without my three corners I wouldn't stand,

All of them at peace, and rest, within their own tranquillity,

Now I bring you to me, mind, and body,

Don't expect me to deny your call, but I don't demand you answer mine,

Just hold me close and watch the sun,

We can say good morning when she arrives, and goodnight when she's gone.

But no matter what I say, regardless of when and where.

You will always have my heart,

And the special place in there.

You know what my own true fire is,

And it's what lit the furnace that powered me within,

I love you so much, I refuse to choke again,

Make the mistake? No, it no longer exists.

Now I ramble too much,

Such a fact is given,

Let us hold one another, with a love never hidden,

Because as we sit here watching,

The fire rise higher,

The sun has not risen,

And so we can say with each other.

Good morning, our united,

One true fire.

"Magic Of Our World"

She came to me in fear,

Locked away in darkness for over seven years.

She came to me a mess of dreams,

Knotted, tangled, an image with no seams.

Her eyes are beautiful, they held no revenge,

Her eyes were beautiful; she closed them at the end,

Her smile was held, from when I first took arms hold,

From when I embraced her, and saved her from the cold.

She was sick, and an ill gotten spirit,

For many months my mother and I feared it.

Her personality broke the barriers of her age,

She was always a chapter behind, but on her final page.

As the night grew closer there was a terrible attack,

One that told me that she could never turn back.

I pulled her close, and held her tight, my own tongue held in spite.

I held her close, and prayed one last time, knowing that God is deaf,

And it was now her time.

She was taken from me, the epitome of care.

She was taken from me, and took with her, my fear.

I do not regret, or consider this a mistake,

Because without her sacrifice I wouldn't be here today.

She was my blanket from the cold,

She was my answer to the ill gotten and old,

She was my comfort from the storm,

She was the one there when I had love to mourn,

She was always with me, and treated me like king.

Now she's laid to rest and I'm crying again,

Without her I feel much stronger than before,

Love is only a fraction of true death in its form,

I looked into her eyes,

She looked back into mine,

She was smiling when the injection came nigh,

I told her one more time, what I had said before,

That I would always love her,

And protect her from the cold.

She smiled and laid to rest,

Beneath the arms of my own caress,

I know now that she feels no pain,

And that in Heaven,

Someone else can keep Tanjah company again.

For my change has long since passed,

I know one thing that will always last,

The smile on her face, when she left my hold,

And took Tanjah's hand.

To protect from the cold.

"Twilight Horizon"

Your twilight horizon is all but a shattered petal laying on the moonlit walkway of our decent. A stone holding together our triumphant friendship and the never-ending boarder between good and comedic intentions.

Who is the one to rightfully judge what is good or evil in a world that knows neither? Perhaps a backward puppeteer without a care in a dream.

To step forwards into the crystal light of a pathway made strongly of broken hearts and sinister smiles. Gazing upon the orange butterflies on the other side that frolic amongst those of violet hearts. Warming the frozen ice which holds the dreams and burdens together in slumber.

To bring awakening to black tornados struck down by silver blades. Falling back to you on the garden in which our hands once met in rejoice.

How come this memory is nothing but the dreamscape for which many worlds are forged? Stone and ice, fire and metal, crystal and spirit, the combination of beauty.

In the twilight horizon.

"Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License."

"Characters & Stories above © RayvenHart."

[Desereck Creeggan]

BACK TO PAPERWORK YOU DOG *whips*

Very nice, very nice.

[Streleks]

BACK TO PAPERWORK YOU DOG *whips*

Very nice, very nice.

I'll have to make up something to do, then.

[Agares Tretiak]

I have some tasks for those of us bored and looking for a challenge.

[Streleks]

I have some tasks for those of us bored and looking for a challenge.

Feel free to discuss with me in IM's. Haha.