Dance, Juliet, dance upon the floor in magnificent grace.
Drive the music louder and push the rhythm higher.
Twirl around and strut about, as beads of sweat streak down your smiling face.
In awe and wonder your guests are, entranced and made jealous by you,
Beautiful you are in your untamed hair and silken dress, the scent of lilies wafting in your wake.
Sing for us, Juliet, let us hear your elegantly divine tune.
Perform for us, entertain us, drive the crowds wild and uproar.
Makes the very earth cry out in bliss simply to bear you upon its back,
with you in turn bearing a world upon your own.
Smile for us, laugh with us, dine amongst us, and never show a frown.
Exist for us, and only us, we are the ones that pull your strings.
Breath, eat, and live, suffer in your somber melancholy bliss.
Remember though, fair Juliet, your fate is not your own to mold.

Slowly the winds beat the earth, and break the silence of the night;
Leaves thrust upwards in response to the abysmal blow from the dark,
Nary but alone the poor girl walks, lost in a distant escape.
The trees around her bend and shake, recoiling from the cold wind that bashes at them,
Branches reaching down from the tops, clawing their way towards her, like the menacing hands of a Madman,
Frantic and flux, and nervous they make her, a girl with a scarlet scarf, alone in this park at the hour of mourn.
Slowly she draws her breath, focusing her eyes and ears on the world around her, hoping, waiting, for a sign,
A sign of life to help guide her home.
Quiet the night, all but for the howling wind, which shrieks in comparison to the stark emptiness of the world around.
Shifting are the trees, frantic the limbs, and brittle the twigs that fall before her, crushed under a misplaced step,
The moon in a cascading crescent shape high in the starless and blackest night she has ever seen.
A fog around her ankles has formed, all but to laugh at her plight, a lost woman in these woods,
Walking around in the bitter cold, wind gnarling the air around her and piercing her like the jagged,
Serrated, rusted over and blood stained edge of a lunatics knife, and holding her possessions like they,
Simple things, were to her as jewels and wealth are to the high and mighty.
Bated is her breath, as deeper and deeper her focus goes, in and out,
Shakingly trying to tune into the darkness, hoping for a savior, a knight from the brink,
Wishing to be found and swifted away from this barren avenue.
In the near distance, with naught but a single post beside it, a lone bench lays, casting an ominous aura about it.
Weary, the woman hurries to it, unaware, and ignorant, to the darkness that has near but consumed her.
Lowering herself into it, a wave of relief, a moments reprieve, a second to gather her thoughts;
Unfortunately, these things will never come to her.
Waiting, she continues her peaceful rest, adapted now to the dim light cast overhead by an old lamp,
Covered in filth and worn with age.
The wind continues to blow, its vicious breath lashing at her face, her scarlet red scarf offering no assistance;
Masked in the darkness, the dagger lies, and the invisible man that holds in in dirty and vile hands.
Alone, lost, cold, and relaxed, tis not the best shape for this woman, she is fully aware, but
She is ignorant to the man behind her, lurking behind that bench, waiting like a flytrap, mouth watering for her,
His next prey.
Out of the darkness, the woman comes face to face with everything she has wanted that night, to get away from herself.
She found a quiet bench in an abandoned park, she found the the moments of peace her city life denies her,
Found when she needed it, the help to return from whence she came, and, ultimately;
She found the end of her life met by the cold edge of a knife, the murderers shout of anger,
His battle cry and her saviors calls of warning, all masked that night
By the whistling winds, carrying on them only death, darkness, and moonlight.

Put on a mask, tie it around your head, let it cover your face,
Let the ceramic decorated face become your own.
Put on a mask, prepare the script, and set out upon the stage,
Steady yourself to perform for those that come to see your play.
Put on a mask, and hide away, fade away into the shadows,
Let them see only the mask you hide yourself with.
Put on a mask, paint your face, color it with reds and blacks,
Blues, greens, browns, and greys, hide away the scars upon your soul.
Put on a mask, and act out its role;
Act out the roles of the false selves you put on each and every day.
Put on a mask, tie it on good and tight, let it suffocate and choke you,
Allow the mask to cover and hide your true self, become who you wish to be.
Put on a mask, put on a disguise, cover yourself with with lies,
Parade around, dance about, and strut your useless stuff.
Put on a mask, go to sleep, and fade away to dusk,
Retreat to the shadows of hell to cower in your self disgust.
Put on a mask, and play your violin, play your clarinet, and piano.
Perform a costumed opera in spectacle to yourself.
Put on a mask, and embrace the lies, embrace the madness within,
Put on a mask, and hide yourself, become dead under a ceramic lie.
Lies, deceit, and bitter cold loneliness, all shall follow in your shadows.
Beneath the empty fragile lies, inside the hollow darkness,
Let yourself become the lies you hide behind.
Put on a mask, and the world shall dissipate away.
Fade away into nothing, and vanish into the void, behind your soulless eyes.
Put on a mask, and dance the night away.
Tempt fate, and flirt with desire, all while under a lie, a useless folly based tale.
Put on a mask, cover it with luster, and polish it to a bright sheen.
Wear it, and become it, all the way to the grave.

Tall, away from the world
Staring down, from frowned expressions
The frozen peak, a bitter chill.

Arm in hand, will wrapped in desire
Trapped in rapture, alone in solace
Unshakable, from the clouds you rise.

Heart locked away, its purpose gone
Cannot defend that who has all
Needless and desiring no praise for his sacrifice.

Guardian to those without, and voice of the ill
Steady the iron, cold and bathed in icy night rains
Rugged in appearance, and chipped in demeanor.

Crying out for his salvation, hurting
Taken away from the life of comfort and safety, bleeding
Shackled and chained to a stake, mourning.

The ramparts are burning, and the maids are dying
Foreign disease and foreign steeds trample the common, falling on the street
Execution, assassination of the king in the courtyard.

He has escaped this madness, forlorn remembrance streaks his hollows
Given up wife and child, given up fame and glory
Now forever watching his home burn to the ground.

He alone survived, forsaken knight
At night he weeps, his judgment due
Standing against the wind, embers and tears in his eyes.

You tear me, rip apart my mind, and despair with me all that haunts you.
Silently I sit, taking all of your anguish, drying your tears, embracing you like the evening dark.
Holding you close, I whisper to you, "everything will be alright, you hear me?" You nod and we fall asleep in each others grasp.
The sunlight, its damning light, bathes the stained glass windows of the chapels that are our hearts, and awakes us from dreamy bliss.
You said he loves you, that he treats you well, and you love him as well. Yet, you are frightened.
I grab you by the shoulders and tell you, softly in your delicate ears, "I will protect you." You nod, and cry on my shoulder.
He beats you, and you come crying to me. I have let you down. Yet, you forgive him his transgression, and I comfort you.
Once more he hurts you, and makes you cry. Once more, I have betrayed you. "I will take care of this," I assure you.
I take the knife, and while he sleeps, I end his last breathing moment of life. I snuff out the flame of his candle-lit torment.
You cry when I return, and weep even more than when he would make you cry. I have brought even greater suffering.
Maybe I was better off without you, without knowing you, without trying to comfort you.
I have betrayed myself, and you as well. Tears fall into your soft delicate hands, and its all my doing.
Walking out of the door, you still unable to forgive me, who forgave you for feeling hurt, you have betrayed me as well.
This accursed emotion, and all that it brings me, maybe I'm better off without...

Forgive me, for these words shall ring my own,
Disregard the worldly lies the masses have sown.
Listen to the falling glass as it breaks upon the ground,
Feel the vibrating echo of a deaf and silent sound;
In a pyre the light of death shall shine its dimmest hue,
With this last breath, take my final testament as true.
Long the road shall continue, seemingly never ending,
Guided by a shallow shadow, and with careful steps treading.
Along the sides of the road lie the corpses of the fallen,
Bitter men driven mad and the bitter remains of mourning women.
As the seasons go and pass us by, the winds blow a new path,
The memory of our journey bears down on us in its wrath,
Unnerving and never resting, we are pushed more and more;
And silently we look back, hoping someone else is there to feel sorry for.
With a melancholy smile we march on, carrying the future on our minds,
Blindingly so the aspirations we see are, and all the wonderful finds,
Tomorrow, again, we will continue this path, we will continue to stride;
And for all our beings we will walk, and we will not be denied.
Better things we have to see, and better things to become,
Yet to these futures and hardships we must not succumb.
So remember, you of little traveled life, who are all but pure,
Do not fail to forget, there lies many a great mystery in store.

"Oh, my dear, how i miss you; i wish i knew how you are.
How i miss the nights we spent, laughing, crying, having fun; all those tender memories i wish could come once more.
I miss the way you would always comfort me when i cried, how you pitied me when i was alone;
The way you laughed at the most juvenile of jokes, and always wore an outer smile.
I miss being there for you, to take you by the hand, caressing you as you cried with tears most intense;
Holding your hands and telling you, "Everything will be alright;" I miss you more and more,
Each day that passes i cant help but worry about you, and where you are.
You, whom i shared my most tender memories and darkest desires with; you, whom I cared for more then myself.
Oh, you with the caramel hair and luminous eyes, and a voice as sweet as morning dew; truly how you were divinely made.
I regret not saying goodbye, not knowing where you are now, and if you have a hand ready to take you,
To hold you tender and close, and comfort you when you cry; oh, dreaded fate, i curse you.
For you, i will never lose these memories, and hold them dear, as i sit and weep, awaiting your return;
Unaware if you will ever return to me, my dear, darling; I love you."

Dig away, pick away, claw and tear away the walls.
Pick axes and hammers pound and crush as the workers slave on, a pointless labor, to find the jewel within.
All that is found are coal black hearts, that shatter and crumble to dust.
On and on they dig, yearning for that one precious gem, hoping with each new mine that a diamond valentine will fall.
More and more, the workers work on, their bodies worn and encrusted by dirt, grit, dust, and ash.
"Tear out these coal blackened heart, oh Righteousness!" they moan, arms aching legs sore, even their spirits groan on in fatigue.
Yet, despite the dark and hopeless abyss to which they struggle in, by their own hands they further their misery and despair, despite the terrible emptiness inside, they labor on.
they push further downward and deeper inward, going futher and deeper each passing day, every cold lonely night, they continue on, waiting to finally strike the diamond in the rough, knowing that all the heartbreak and sorrow was not just a pointless and aimless journey.
They will work until their bones break and their spirits crack, and they finally expire and collapse under the pressure of their own past failures.
They will work on with hope in their hearts, wishing that, with each blow, from every bead of sweat and droplet of blood, thatthey will find the precious, most valuable thing that any man can ever yearn for, hope for, wish for, work for, kill for, and die for; a heart to carry them out of the caves they dig, the graves they dig.
All hope and all sorrow compel them, to everlasting joy, or everlasting woe, they dig on, and on, and on.

Blessed angel, you who shines in songs sung for you, where hath your halo gone?
Regret, do you, your life of free caring joy and the smiles that split across your face?
What has moved you to tears?
Oh, my winged salvation, you've saved me from my own hands, yet ironic that you cannot yourself save.
Where are you now, and are you alone, crying inside while the world laughs around you?
If fate would only grant me a moment, I'd wipe away your tears and hold you in my arms.
All I have to offer you are words guised in the form of comfort; I am no better than any other.
In the end, however, it seemed that we were not fated to meet face to face, or so it seems to me.
Oh winds, carry my wish for me, take it to the heavens; let me see her, the one that needs to be saved, a savior herself to me.

Open the gates that hold back the tides of madmen and rabid dogs, let loose the ravages of war!
Here and there, upon the rooftops that burn with embers bright, see the violinists pluck and play.
Drums! Great gaping maws that bide not for themselves and engulf all before them, eat their way to peace.
Beyond the horizon the flutes echo, and break through the mist dyed with a crimson air.
March onwards, my symphony of disaster, trumpets shall shake the very mountains we climb!
Paradise shall great us with open arms, the angels, oh how they shall marvel!
Look behind us, saviors, we have carved out a swath of carnage for you! We are yours!
The rivers plugged and dammed, drained to quench our hot blood lust.
Forests cut down and razed, obstacles that blocked our views of Valhalla.
Hills and valleys, all broken in and leveled, made to bear our wastes, both of war and body!
Heralds of the promised future, our civil revolt, we, the ones held back for ways that broke the norm, take us!
We, the legion branded in exile, shall serve and obey, and forever wade in your melodic orchestral songs.
Even the sky played for us, the bright cymbals that cast out the burning light, casting divine providence!
Lords of high, take us and embrace, we legion cry out for you!

Desire, they will call for you,
Meaning, will it show to be true?
Slowly he walks deeper towards the core,
Quietly he sheds tears of angst, and crys more.
With the hand of a lover he cuts out his beating heart,
Greatly he professes his love for her, and with tears, he begs for a fresh start.
Magically, the feeling of warmth fills the void inside of him.
Touched, his swollen heart pulses on its loving whim.
A bitter swan flies low for this broken man.
Casting a loving song for this fool.
Mercy, it never is so cruel.

Here i sit, waiting for you to return to me.
Lying in wait i pass my time in thought, thinking of you.
I loved the way we used to talk, discussing our days and our dreams.
How i long to embrace you once more.
Beside you, with you, and for you, I want to be.
Together, sharing words I hope to be true.
But, I know life is not always as it seems.
Nonetheless, I will always wait for an end to this war.
The wonders, I can only imagine; what is it that you can see?
Many a sight violent and chaotic, and a peaceful moment so few.
What power that decides your fate came up with this deluded scheme?
Oh, please, my love, return to me; uphold to me the oath to me you swore.
I will be here for you. Will you be here for me?

We walk along, her hand in mine, down through the park, the autumn chill strong. She leans in her head, setting it on my shoulders, and looks up and me and smiles, and I smile back at her.

The sun, dipping low in the sky, now shines a beautiful vermilion hue onto the clouds and the trees, the light reflecting off of the surface of the lake. Crickets chirp and birds sing, dragonflies skirt about the surface of the tepid water. The color of the leaves are fantastic hues of yellow and red, orange and brown. No more beautiful a sight could be beheld, and I was sharing it with the one I loved.

Further up now, near an old wooden bench, I could see the lampposts flickering into life, casting out a pale amber glow. Together we walked, and together we sat, taking in the view. Against the wind I felt her heartbeats, in unison with mine. Together we sat, and slowly we kissed. I was the happiest man alive.

Then, suddenly I felt an unnatural chill race across my back, sending a terrifying shiver down my spine. I turned around and saw behind me a then unseen passage through the woods behind us. I rose from the bench and stood before it, an uneasy aura coming from it. My love, at fist seeing this also, slowly approached the small path, then at once started to run through it.

I called out her name, and then gave chase. Low hanging branches and out-lying roots impeded my path, all the while i could hear her laughing out in glee, ans she ran through the woods. The branches slashing out at me, the roots making me trip, and the path darkened by the tops of the trees which cut off the sunlight. I grew frantic and uneasy, this part of the forest scaring me beyond comfort.

Then at once I broke free from the woods, and at first I saw my love, staring in awe in front of her. Then I too beheld it, a work of art so beautiful and pure, untouched by the hands of nature nor time.

On white granite stone, in a small clearing in the woods, and inside a wooden pavilion encircled by carnations and roses of all shades and colors, there stood an angel made of crystal. Its hands gently folded together in front of its chest, clutching a book tightly in its grasp. Its wings were folded down, and a light robe adorning the figure.

She reached out and grasped my hand, and together my love and I approached the wondrous thing. As we reached the small steps leafing into the pavilion, the sun peaked through the clouds, sending an amber light shining through the beautiful statue.

Together we stood, staring in awe, at this beautiful work of art. Beneath its sandaled feet there was a worn bronze plaque. On it was inscribed a message; "This angel, captured in glass, watches over those whose hearts beat as one."

Aloud we read its message, and in unison we spoke. She then wrapped her arms gently around me and together we kissed. We stood there, together our hearts beating in tune, expressing our love, and the magnificent sight we both beheld. We kissed for what seemed an eternity, and we were in bliss.

The darkened road, leaves strewn about, blown across the rocky path by the cold winds of autumn, and all I can see is myself.
The owls overhead cry out, serenading to the bathing moonlight that pierces the cloudy night sky, nesting in their trees overhead and watching the world beneath them.
Greater forces, fear and anxiety, bite and tear away, breaking apart the frail and fragile spirit I hold in my heart.
Down this path I have chosen to walk, away from the spoiled rots of human greed, suffrage and dismay, bearing the memories of past joys and happiness on my back.
Looking ahead I can see nothing but my own feet, slowly walking forward, unendingly walking forward, despite the strain of time and fatigue.
Many nights has it been sine I have been able to muster the courage to look behind me, to seek help and aid from the ones I've abandoned and tossed aside.
Many nights have been spent cowering underneath the canopies of the oak and spruce trees, seeking shelter from the world outside underneath their massive out-hanging branches and leaves.
Come again, tears roll down my cheeks, come once more a bitter and paralyzing sorrow, the dim pale lights of streetlamps overhead casting a terrifying glow upon the most simple of objects.
Deep down, underneath the prisoned heart, beats the memories of the nobody I am, deeper down he cries out in pain.
His joy stands bereft and his anguish unrequited, put away from the glaring eyes of those around him to hide his true self.
Locked away, safely in his hell, yearning to break free.
Locked away, the potential to be more than a pariah.
More than a simple boy with simple dreams, more than just another face in the crowd.
Bearing the crown of a fallen king, wearing the robes of a simple peasant.
This inner boy is screaming out in agony, his pleas for salvation falling upon deaf ears.
A poor mute both he and I have become, as my journey continues agonizingly forward.
Even now, looking down, I can see my feet, blistered and bloody, broken toes and a battered sole.
No path I ever take I ever intend to lead me to anywhere.
Each avenue and each walkway just an escape from the world I'd sooner want to abandon and forget.
From time to time, people see me, my straggling and tattered mess of an appearance, and some kind, pious souls have reached out to give me a helping hand.
However, my own ineptitude and lack of self appreciation are what makes me stray, what makes me walk away from them.
Their heads turn and they walk away, content to have only offered me aid.
No one stays.
Not a single path I have ever walked down, not a single road that my feet have tread their bloody prints on has ever lead me to a final destination.
No roads of mine lead me to home, and none ever shall.
This, the fate of a wanderer, have I adopted to cower away from the world outside.

Shakles and chains hold back the crying little girl. Her heart, the fragile little thing it is, has become cracked and broken by the forces of above. Disgraced and ashamed, belittled and neglected, her body quivers once again. Thunder and magma break out and attack her weary soul; a defiled virgin girl. Her linen sheets reek of sin, and her body is bruised and sore. Nights are spent alone, crying in bed, fear grips her. The stomps of angry boots, the thu of the slammed door, another night spent shutting out the world and being driven into a wall. The pain goes on, night after night, her anguish and suffering knows not any peace. No wordcs rise from her to liberate her from these bonds. No one to save her from this prison, no one to hear her pleas.

Time passes, years go by, the pain of her heart follows her like a shadow, lurking in the cold depths of her mind. She has grown distant from the world, the fear of others hurting her a constant foe. Shut away and locked inside, her feelings are held at bay....

The sun blinds the eyes of virgin lovers, casting a tear to their eye.
With a tender breeze, their spirits are lifted higher, and their love pulled aloft.
Sitting under the daylight sky, underneath the shadowy willow tree, they embrace their love,
Undisturbed by the voices of anger and envy of their united passion.
In her ears, he whispers, a tender "I love you;" and she to his, "and I love you."
From the distance, up in the heavens, they have delusions of angels, singing and dancing,
Praising such a unison on such a dismal world, built upon pain and sadness.
Wisps of willow branches swing to and fro, like the flowing hair of his truest love;
The sunlight warming her supple skin, like the warm caress of her lovers hands.
Slowly the minutes turn to hours, and the day flutters past, and they, holding steadfast,
Turn nary but a blind eye to the world about them, cast in strife and punishment.
Take heed from them, the lovers caught in bliss, and note how they are, so peacefully so,
Able to turn away the world, and even escape time, all in the grasp of one that fits only their eye.

Take another shot.
Bang.
Once more the floor greets me.
Open wound after open wound, bare all for you to see.
Bang, another blow.
Holes ripped into flesh, scars burned onto soul.

Time is spent, and time is taken.
Used and tossed aside, devoid of purpose.
Lend me thine ear, fallen rejects, you are loved.
Bang, another bullet rips the air. Tossed to the ground.
Loveless, oh heavy-hearted burdens you carry.
Who will weep for you if not for me?

Take life, and its melancholy strings.
Their hands are bloody and stained, callused and raw.
Martyrs you are, taken only at face value for little worth.
Skin as paper and no heart to break, you carry the fragments of the broken hearted.
Bang.
Once more she cries, once more you hurry to her side.
Used up and dried out, tossed aside when she's had her say.

Another night with a drunken stumble.
Bang Bang.
Her mistakes are your burden to bear, and where is justice?
Every night a new hole is blown, every day a new order is made.
Can you carry the weight of two worlds on your back?
She will make you, use you for her, obsess over her wall full of holes.
Justice is blind, and she is your order and law.
And you, without a voice to speak with, say only pain.

Fallen in love and fallen out, landing on spikes afterwards.
She comes crying to you.
Caress her, care for her, be her release.
Bang, and one more hole in the wall.
Eyes bleeding black, her face burning red; how can you resist?
Bang.
She's alone and you're her only hope of redemption.
Bang bang, and the holes now are the wall.

Used up, with no soul left to scar.
She sees you for the doll you are to her.
Never to love her, never to be loved.
Used up, alone, who will bear your burden?
She pushes away when you need her.
Where is justice, has she abandoned you?
Justice is blind, she does not see you.
Bang, and the last bit of rubble falls.

Escape to that empty room.
Here, no one can hurt you, here you are safe.
The walls are covered in grey, the windows shut tight.
The supports are gone, and your world's come tumbling down.
Hope for you, is all you gave, and nary an once returned.
Used to fill the holes she builds into herself; who will fill yours?
Bang, the heat of pain sinks deep.
Burning tears flow down onto scalding cheeks.
Two worlds, crumbled into tissue paper balls.

Bang.
The whole world is a hole now.
Black surroundings, blackened walls, and darkness.
Peace.
With no one to bear her burdens, she crumbles and falls.
Into the hands of yet another.
Hope that you gave she has thrown away.
Littered about the ground around the can, crumpled tissues.
Crumpled dreams and a ruined heart.
Justice is blind as another hole is dug.

Another hole to be made tonight.
Bang.

the pipes are cracked, ages of abuse and neglect. That they still hold and carry their weight is short of nothing but determination and will.

The midnight that lasts for days, weeks, months; hours spent in this twilight, and the aurora i seek greets me in the sky.

The shattered staind glass has littered the floors, fragments keep falling every day. But still they are beautiful.

A brazing wind that sweeps away thoughts, and carries aloft the sands of time, shaping the motionless dunes into a dance of passionate woe.

Dyed in hues of reds and whites, to brighten up the blues, a star that shines in contrast to the harshness of pain is but worth the fight for.

Glory, oh say it be true, that finally a sight is worth to hold. Longing to take it away and never let it go.

This moment, memories, meaning; all things of a dreamed future that would be heaven to come to pass.

Take this, my heart, and treasure it; my world is brighter in your color. Shine and laugh, dance and sing, and never let me go.

Take out from me this black valentine coal, and in your love, embrace it tightly, turn it into a diamond with priceless value and worth.

This picture is painted on a canvas of air, with the pastels of emotion and fire; use them and create a miracle for your desire.

And with words that drop like dew on a budding rose, know that i treasure this thing that splits the world in two, and folds it in half.

Listen to the beatings of our hearts, and hear their unison, feel them as they glow. your shine in my eyes, reflected in yours.

Youve fillen in the gaps that many an aeon have caused, and have brightened the moonlit waltz by the burning of your star. Never fade from view, and let me hold you tight.

Darkness has now a light.