The soul is not a place, a person, a building, a tree, a light, a metaphorically shining reflection of ones life force
The soul has no reasoning or doubt
The soul is not made nor destroyed

It simply is to be

And simply-is-to-be’s are misunderstood and discouraged
For we do not want to know that something can just be
We want to know where and how and why and whom and what
These questions drive our lives

The soul is not a void nor interval of time
It has no boundaries and does not live within our bodies

The soul is not something or someone

It is the shadow that is cast from the puppet master
He who pulls the strings and manipulates fate and does these things
All in time for afternoon tea

It is the fiery remnant of all and everything and everyone
And it is nothing and no one

We cannot see the soul
We cannot touch it
Or smell it
Or taste it

The soul is simply to be
You cannot understand
For the soul is simply just to be 

On a different day my feelings will change
I’ll be someone who can be
Without becoming
I’ll be the greatest
I’ll be just me 

A short insomniac’s poem.

A funny, little, teeny, tiny, short, petit, small, shrunken, weency
Man
Once told me

Love is a legend, my friend

He said again,

Love is a legend, my friend

I didn’t believe him
I tried hard not to
I ran and screamed
I kicked and shrieked
I tossed and tallied
I labored and carried
I ran so far and wide
To the ocean
To the sea
To the rivers
To the streams
To the mountains
To the valleys
To the country
To the city
To the edge of this godforsaken, damned nation, unrealistic, fake, diabolical world we live in

I ran

And I ran

And I ran

And I ran…

Love is just a legend

That old man’s screechy, bruised, broken, wise voice broke through the absence of a thousand smoldering fires in the distance of a damaged, beaten down town…

Love is just a legend, but I don’t believe it.

Do you? 

There once was a boy named Riddle
He was found in a home of kiddies
The housemaids screeched
The children cried
The home was his playpen
The world was his Hell

Soon he was taken to a school
The headmasters thought he was another young fool
But by day he did his tasks
By night he researched what was Restricted
He made Slytherin look so tainted
No one would believe he was so obligated

His professors were bewildered by his talents
He studied long after the sun
And maybe this time, with darkness as cover,
Tom Riddle created his monstrous fun

Soon he fled with a tainted heart
His knowledge crying ever so detailed
The river turned ice
Blood flowed through cracks
He was no man or a beast
He was something more
Something least
By the devil himself
Or he the devil
Tom Riddle
Lived on
By one name only
He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named
This man
So stubborn
So ill
So fowl
So skilled
This man
Went on
Lived on
Carried on
As

Voldemort. 

But nothing ever happens here
Not even a riot, I fear
Too boxed in, even looking is a sin
This town, I fear
Has nothing for me here 

It’s a world 

Of cruel 

And unusual things

Of torment

And weird

Misunderstood things

There’s something going on
In my mind
These thoughts are scattered
I can’t focus
I can’t even say hi
Without staring into evil eyes
I see a light on the fringe between darkness
A horizon of black
And a moon of light

All my thoughts
Repeated
All my thoughts
Repeated
All my thoughts
Repeated
All my thoughts…

Kill yourself
Find an escape
There’s something going on
You’re never going to be normal
So why stay alive
So why be here
Because
I say

I am alive
I am breathing
I am sane
I am a person
I am

I just am.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Foot forward one step at a time
Close eyelids and whisper goodbye
Can’t
See
Anything anymore
Can’t even deal with the mosquitoes

Where did my mind go
So very long ago

Well, you see
We are all mad here 

I’ve got no rhymes left inside me
The only piece of writing are these endless paragraphs
And stories and lies and alibis
There has never been such nonsense fulfilled in my mind
Now that it’s there,
I don’t know whether to run or hide
Or just disappear for a while
Or just to die

You see,
These lines and letters are more than just stories
They grow on me
They breathe me
They beat me down with every space between
These words, oh these words
They are what cause me so much hurt

I do not know whether to be frightened or joyed
Or scared or annoyed
These words just keep flowing
And soon enough I’m writing
And yet they’ll never be seen by
Another’s naked eye
You see,
I am too afraid
So I’ll just let them die

There’s one verse left in this glimpse of lines
This glimpse is showing my entire mind
One by one they pile and sit atop me
They crush me down
They slow me down
They give me headaches
Even my soul aches, too
You see,
These words and lines
Though never seen by the right person and such
You see,
These words and lines
They’re
Killing
Me
With
Each
And
Every
Line
You
See
Taking
My
Mind
And

Counting
To
Three 

I’d do you right. Everything, and all my soul, would be yours until the very ending of our time. My body would be your canvas or the brush to your sculpture. I’d be the one whispering those soft, sweet lullabies at night. Your feet would never touch the ground. No, you’ll ride in luxury, my dear. My heart will belong to somebody one day, but not today.

No, not today, so I’ll just keep writing these nursery rhyme lullabies.

People always worry over the ones they care for. They always complain that their life is too hard or is burdening them. They’re nothing without these worries. People go on feeling like there’s something missing. Like the one they have isn’t worth kissing. People always worry about someone or themselves. But they forget to worry about those who show so much damn feeling and emotion towards life and are passionate about everything.

Yeah. People always forget about people like me.

And I’ll grow to accept it, to let it be.

Demons aren’t centuries buried wyverns
They’re not scaly or eerie or even demonic at all
Demons don’t live underneath this Earth
They live and breathe and walk among us just over that wall

Tongues with lie stained saliva
Dripping from canines of a clenched shut jaw
Their pride bestows the worst in them
Ripping wings off angels and taking in the ones who fall

These beasts show no sign of tormented
They show knowledge of the past and present and future
Their features look so very much like those of ancestors
Their love flows very true, the greatest evil of them all

No, I say, demons do not scurry in caverns
They are not slain and beheaded in prize possession
Supernatural powers to twist another’s words round
With that evil smile, they can turn a frown upside down

Religion drew that they are fierce, powerful creatures
Science proves them to be nothing of the sort
Contradictions are drawn and conflicts occur
No, I say, demons do not dwell in caves

Just look at that girl who stole your heart unsafe
Look at that boy who played tricks in torment
Eye your neighbor who whispers secrets you tell
Look at this life, within us—these demons dwell 

I’m a fuck up with a self destructive motto. My life is upside down. The opposite is the same. The same is the opposite. Life’s my virtue. And I destroyed it all. I can’t write even a few verses, ‘cause the same is just the opposite. I have a demon raging inside me. He’d like to say hi, to come out and play, but that God above has him locked away. The God keeps his demons in his followers. Because His followers are ones he finds pleasure to fuck with. He fucked us all. So we revolt. So we make a fire. So we grab the pitchforks. This poem is a complete piece of useless time. And the devil wants to come say Hi.

I never claimed to be a saint
Nor a devil, too
The darkness in these walls
Are from seeing everything from every view

We all have a little secret
It’s kept safe within our own minds
Then when someone asks ‘What’s wrong?’
The devil flashes before your eyes

He comes in a form like a friend or an angel
Bearing myrrh and frankincense and gold
He offers you a world of no worry
You’re humanness happily obliges thee

Whispers in your mind say something’s wrong
This, the devil, is plain, you see
Look past the walls and into those red eyes
These gifts taken sign he’ll never let you be

One can run far and wide
The only thing left for us is to hide
The devil, though, hides in the soul of an angel
One whom you trust and is helping thee

So, I tell you once more
Just before you let one enter the door
I never claimed to be an angel
Or a devil, my dear

You are the one who must judge
Will you trust me? 

The Devil and God are raging inside me
I’m like a trapped prey
In an eagle’s eye
They target me down
And clench me until I die

I don’t understand anymore
How we can be who we are
Yet have another’s words tear us down
We’re animals
It’s in our nature
But our nature is not of hatred

Where does the sunlight come from
Humans we call scientist show us how
It’s not all true
But who am I to say otherwise

Wise man once told me
You’re a mockingbird sitting, whistling another’s cry in a tree
You’re the God child
But the Devil has you so
And you may not know why
But that is life and it moves on
Time is everlasting
Maybe time never began to be
It just keeps ticking
The Devil and God are raging inside me