America Under Attack - Matrix7:egin::Darkest hours of the morningshattered by a blinding light.Hear a roar not unlike thunderhear the people's desperate cries.Shockwaves of emotion tumbleto the ground so far below.People run and fall and tumbleas twins of iron begin to groan.Yet again a roar of rageemiting from a fiery crash.People locked inside a cagetaunted by the soot and ash.Choosing death, they fall and tumblecrushed or burned, no choice was left.Tears begin and vision jumbles"Oh my God.." is all that's saidOther places burn with firea demon from our darkest dreams.All we want/hope/wish/desireis wake up from this horrid dream.Loose the demon from its prisoninvite it to rip out your throat.Taste the sulfur, stop and listen"Just the start" it rasps and gloats.It just awoke the sleeping giantSigned in our blood its own death...For what this demon has just startedgoes Where Angels Dare Not Tread.::End::My condolences and prayers with the familiesand friends of the people in this tr
Lost Without You - RhymingTurn the lightbulb of my mindon, and scan both left and right.Wondering what I would be likeif I didnt have you in my life...No more hands to hold me tightOnly endless nights aloneNo more sharing hopes and dreamsLonely hunger gnaws my bones...No more laughing at my jokesOnly silence echoes backFeeling like my soul's been brokeOnly sadness, pain and lack...Left out in a barren landFilled so full nothingnessBut then you reach to me your handAnd I see that I am truly blessed...::End::
The Studio - Past and PresentTurn the knobHear the door gently creak.The doorway to imaginationthe doorway to inspirationthe doorway to dreamsthe doorway to nightmares.Glide across the studiotoward the cornertoward the glasstoward the canvas...toward everything and nothingat the same time.Take the brush(type the words)Choose the color(or emotions???)Concentrate....(open your eyes to your heart)Frenzied painting(type faster, faster!before it leaves again!)ExhaustionSit in the chair(smell the new/old dust)observe the work(read the words)feel the brush fall to the floor(take your hand off the keys)Hits the floor with a sound oddlylike thunder. Disturbing the silentsanctuary of this place.(File...Save....Close...)Select the perfect frame(Which category to submit?)That one...in the corner.Oak inset...hand crafted..velvet mat.Yes.....perfect(Hmm....Emotional I think)Hang it on the wall for all to see.But where?(Title...File...Description...Hesitation...is it good enough?Will it
More Than The WholeMinute details of your soulthings nobody else can see.The freckled nose, the tiny molethe way you glow when you're with me.The twinkle in your emerald eyeslike starlight in a favorite dream.The soothing music of your laughlike water in a lazy stream.The fact that you have perfect handsthat hold to mine so tenderly.The dreams we share of distant landsthe "I love you's" when no one sees.Holding hands under the deskI see the pieces of your soul.And as I listen to your breathI see that you are more than the whole...
ClosureOpen ended landscapes of emotionstretching as far as they eyecan see to an unseen destinationthat only it knows.No limits, no boundriesno start, no end.For good emotions this isa wonderful thing.Finding a new facet to exploreevery day as you run with childlikeinnocence simply because you can.Room to fly, room to soarroom to run, room to be free.But what happens when the painfulfeelings transforms thisutopia of open space into aprison without bars?No companionship, no changeno laughter, no tears left...And you would trade all thespace in your world fora tiny room with a singlefriend who cares and listens.No hidden goals, no mistaken meaningsno bitterness, no hate...Just a little closure.And that is enough.