The Begger

We all have our wants and our needs. Our wants turn into our needs and our needs are unattainable and so, we become lost. We are then broken and tear away from everything. Sitting and stirring about our thoughts, burning alone. We are left with nothing.....all hope fires. Angels burn and demons smile with a weeping tear for all that is forsaken. The living die and the dead keep on living in our hearts, in our memories. Crying out of the darkness in despair for everything that is only attainable in time or unattainable. The moon wept in the darkness of the night for us. We all cry in our silence for the things that we long for in life and once we have them, we burn. I cut the rope you held on to that kept me falling into my own abyss. I'm only here cause I'm too afraid to leave.

Hope In Sorrow

I am playing the soft chello upon the nerves of arm, don't you hear the beautiful, sorrowful song that I am playing, the one that gives you all the hope in the world and then in an instant, it is rightfully taken from you for another time and place, but without cause or reason. My strings refuse to break for they are the only tune that I truely know how to play without flaw, and yet, I play them with a smile.

You

I'm breaking open at the seams once again. My heart is splitting open as it's sheading layers. The darkest corners of it, way deep down, near the River of Styx that runs through it are being lit. As I watch this figure walk more and more towards me, the most beautiful silhouette starts to take form. A new breath of life starts to flood my lungs and starts to run rampant through my veins. Washing me away in the tides as I realize that it's you. As you took my hand, nothing has ever been the same.

Moonlight Vision

As I lay myself to sleep while listening to the silence of the Darkness, the moon light gently creeps across my face just as sweet and beautiful as you are. I start to smile as they slowly take me and consume me.

Darkness

Darkness is for the loneliest of lonely, the blackest of nights bring comfort to the hearts that scream in pain and the ones that are utterly alone, who are waiting for someone worth bleeding for and burning for, worth spending every ounce of blood, strength, and tears, one that's worth dying for with out a thought, the boundless soul that passes through the darkness looking for a light to illuminate their darkness, darkness bounds all, but light bleeds through.

Break Down of Meditation 17

As said in Meditation 17, we all have our own bells that toll only twice. The first time they toll is when we are born into this world, and the second is when we’re about to exit it, for the rest of the time, it is silent like the forest in the winter. We all die for different reasons; age, sickness, war, justice, etc. All of these must be translated, all of which can be translated by translators employed by God. All of the translating goes from a complex, hard to understand, and comprehend to a beautiful, elegant, extravagant language that forever continues.
The tolling of our bell initiates us into this world or it throws us out of this world like a bartender. Donne shows that we have our time that is set upon this world and it reports like a porter. Our soul then reports to it’s acquired destination so it may report like a solider on the battlefield. We all have different tollers for different reasons that call us home. The final tolling brings us into eternity within a glorious realm.
The translation goes from a rough language to a language that has infinitive meanings. Donne shows that every man has their own book that they write with this rough language that is later judged by all of the translators that were employed by God and God himself. This language is then translated into a beautiful language and a new book is then forged from the old. This new book not only begins a new chapter, but it is in it’s own entity.
Donne explored the depths of death and judgement upon our final arrival. Death is a much harder chapter for us to explain for once we are there, we never want to leave. He depicts this through metaphors as they are the only way to catch a glimpse into this realm of the process of passing from one world into the other. We have come to know these tellings through many eons of dying and rising into the other realm and near experiences. He takes all of all of these tellings and puts them into vivid images.
We all walk hand in hand with Death as he walks us ever more from one bell tower to another that beholds the Gates of Glory as we scribble in our book. When we walk through the gates, Saint Peter greets us as he smears the blood of Christ in a crucifix-like style across our foreheads. Michael, the archangel stands by his side as we exchange our book that we had been carrying from the first bell tower where Death had given it to us for a new book so that we may continue our lives, eternally. Standing amongst the small and great, we are judged through translators who flip through our books page by page and by that book that we had been carrying, given to Michael, by what it contains, the final knower and translator of all is God who rules out whether we stay or if we are cast out. We cannot separate ourselves from all of the small and all of the great for we are born into mankind and we fall out of mankind. “No man is an island, entire of itself.” We are bound to one another, we all stand unified with our one sacred gift, our soul.

Alternate Ending For The Masque of the Red Death

The Masque of the Red Death

Screams echoed down the halls like bells in a church. Prince Prospero awoke, panting as though he were a dog, checking if he was in a dream or the real world. Fear struck his heart as it would strike any man’s heart if he were to obtain a visit from Black Knight on his boned horse with his enormous scythe drawn over his shoulder. The prince knew that he had to do something about the plague, but if he didn’t, it would eclipse the land in the same way that it had came, in silence, covering all in darkness and decay.
Two-thirds of Europe was already silenced from this so called “Monster”. His kingdom was already starting to go to ruins as though an army was in it slowly killing off his people with no mercy. The Black Knight was the sole rider of this army of darkness, creating chaos, pain, misery, grief, sickness, and his personal favorite, death, the claiming of the soul. His disciples, his servants, his followers were always dressed for this occasion, dressed in blooded-red, dripping profuse amounts of blood, enough to fill a bucket if their clothes were to be rung out. Their chants were that of moans and screams from the pain and their eyes were whiter than the moon.
The prince contemplated for hours, days, as to how to contain this creature of death. He couldn’t sleep at night because of the thoughts that had been running rampant through his torn mind. There was banging day and night on the door to his palace as though the door were a drum and the people were the sticks, pleading, begging for help, for a savior from the horrid beast. Many couldn’t take refuge in Christ at the church since the priest had died anointing the sick, the same death followed him just as it had done to his followers. The ones that were still alive, that is if they hadn’t lost their hope, turned to Prince Prospero.
“Send some men out, gather the healthy, leave the sick or potently sick for we have to leave this blood stained kingdom that has had Death staying for far too long. We will take refuge in the mountains, start a new kingdom there, wait til Death has taken his collection of souls and til he is satisfied.” and so with that the battle with the beast had finally started to see some light as though an angel was slowly descending.
The people were dazed and confused as to why they were “invited” to the palace, that is until what prince told them what he had in mind. Many didn’t want to leave their dying loved ones, possessions, and the land that they have known all of their lives. This was the only way that they knew that they could live and continue their lives, even thought it would never be the same. They set off from all that they have ever known, never to return, only to return to the to the ashes and dust that they once were. The Black Knight followed them to the mountains, eclipsing the land, the kingdom in a dark sleep, never to wake from, claiming his souls, even though he never has and never will satisfy his hunger for souls. His dark army will continuously grow that is until he has absolute rule over all and sees all. It is a perpetuating cycle of never ending taking, never giving a second chance because all roads lead to one path, eternal sleep and silence.

Unison

I will follow myself home tonight, leaving you out in the dark with the cryptic night and tantalizing phrases. I will fall asleep with silence tonight, without your words, without your breath in my ear, your warmth next to me again.
Outside baring a single candle in your hands, you solely illuminate the Darkness even as the rain comes pouring down and the wind comes by. The candle is your life and it shall forever burn. It will light my world.
The night tonight is for us to behold and do as we may. We shall build what all desire and envy. It will tower over the World and eclipse it in a shadow that we share.
Our bodies scream for one another and our hearts sing in unison. Entwined in a sea of sheets, we are bound, becoming one. Life is running out of me, covering the room with passion.

Your Ocean's Current

The waves of you keep on crashing and taking me over. They keep on dragging me out and under as I watch you stand on shore illuminated by the moonlight. As I am sinking farther down, the night's sky keeps on getting broader, until I can see it all. I watch as you walk across the water and stand over me as I sink into the shadows of the sea without any sort of plea except, let me keep on sinking.

Lost

All that I have found has all turned to ash
And I can't breath no more
For you are not by my side
And I've gone away
I cannot dream
On my own, your all that I see
I have nothing to bleed
My heart is dead without you
Please come back
And I'll be fine
I've turned my back to myself
And I'm running to you
I cannot bare this anymore
Let me see you once more
I'm screaming at the shadows once more your name
As they laugh at me and dance
Upon my walls and they flee with morning's light
For I see you once more and you light up all that I am
I have laid here, nailed to my bed waiting for you
To be back in my arms, once again, so that I may be
All the restless nights, without you here
Til I've screamed in silence your name
I've taken my heart to you to be mended
for you know all its worth, I cannot read it anymore
it is broken and shattered in my hands it lays
make something beautiful like you
I have loved you all the days
that you haven't been here
and now you are here
I want to run forever
I am of new
for I have found you
my fire's burning bright
and all my yesterdays are buried
you have taken me
and I have never
been the same
my heart is full
of what you have done
taken me over time and time
again

The Tree Of Life

You see there's a tree that grows in the forest, one of which that could never die, it bares the riches of fruits, the greenest of leaves, and the brownest of barks. It sits in the middle of the forest encircled by all the trees and is greater than all others. The trunk is ever changing into the branches and the branches ever fall, receding into the ground, conjoining with the roots and the roots blend together to form the trunk, the unending cycle of the tree that behold an hourglass of infinitive grains of sand. The hourglass that can never shatter for it is the heartbeat of the tree and on a rock sits a hooded man with a great big scythe, who is ever gathering the fruit that falls from the fruit baring tree and then he takes us one by one and leads us through the Gates of Glory. The forever growing tree that lies in Paradise, the Garden of Eden in the Forbidden Forest.