Music....

Who remembers when music was about more than jewelry and titties? When you could close your eyes and vision two lovers making love, instead of fucking and sucking dick in the backseat of a hummer. Or any other car that's expensive and equals pussy. When the words left something to the imagination. Not even going all the way back to the barry whites and the styllistics, just a few years ago. Am I the only one who would rather hear india arie speak of love than to hear soulja boy jumping out the bed and turning his swag on? Am I really? I can't be. Andre 3000, erykah badu, common, q-tip, The fugees, Digable planets? Where the fuck are they.... Because I don't think I can live off of swag surfin and You're a jerk, and shit like shake that booty meat. LIKE WTF seriously? It's crazy, there used to be a time when music could cleanse the soul, instead of tainting the mind. Sigh... just a thought.

http://www.imeem.com/people/lLt4BR_/playlist/tfKVF7uw/realness-music-playlist/

-Poetrii

Dark Romanticism...

Dark romanticism: Dark romanticism is a literary subgenre that emerged from the Transcendental philosophical movement popular in nineteenth-century America. Works of literature that were influenced by Transcendental thought but which didn’t completely embrace the movement comprise the category. Such works are notably less optimistic than Transcendental texts about mankind, nature, and divinity.

(Wiki) While Transcendentalism influenced individual Dark Romantic authors differently, literary critics observe works of the subgenre to break from Transcendentalism’s tenets in a few key ways. Firstly, Dark Romantics are much less confident about the notion that perfection is an innate quality of mankind, as believed by Transcendentalists. Subsequently, Dark Romantics present individuals as prone to sin and self-destruction, not as inherently possessing divinity and wisdom. G.R. Thompson describes this disagreement, stating that while Transcendental thought conceived of a world in which divinity was immanent, “the Dark Romantics adapted images of anthropomorphized evil in the form of Satan, devils, ghosts . . . vampires, and ghouls.”[5] Secondly, while both groups believe that nature is a deeply spiritual force, Dark Romanticism views it in a much more sinister light than does Transcendentalism, which sees nature as a divine and universal organic mediator. For these Dark Romantics, the natural world is dark, decaying, and mysterious; when it does reveal truth to man, its revelations are evil and hellish. Finally, whereas Transcendentalists advocate social reform when appropriate, works of Dark Romanticism frequently show individuals failing in their attempts to make changes for the better. Thompson sums up the characteristics of the subgenre, writing that:Fallen man’s inability fully to comprehend haunting reminders of another, supernatural realm that yet seemed not to exist, the constant perplexity of inexplicable and vastly metaphysical phenomena, a propensity for seemingly perverse or evil moral choices that had no firm or fixed measure or rule, and a sense of nameless guilt combined with a suspicion that the external world was a delusive projection of the mind–these were major elements in the vision of man that the Dark Romantics opposed to the mainstream of Romantic thought. Many consider Edgar Allan Poe to be the seminal dark romantic author. Much of his poetry and prose features his characteristic interest in exploring the psychology of man, including the perverse and self-destructive nature of the conscious and subconscious mind.[13] Some of Poe’s notable dark romantic works include the short stories “Ligeia” and “The Fall of the House of Usher” and poems “The Raven” and “Ulalume”. Popular in England during the late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-centuries, Gothic fiction is known for its incorporation of many conventions that are also found in Dark Romantic works. Gothic fiction originated with Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto in 1764.[7] Works of the genre commonly aim to inspire terror, including through accounts of the macabre and supernatural, haunted structures, and the search for identity; critics often note gothic fiction’s “overly melodramatic scenarios and utterly predictable plots.”[8] In general, with common elements of darkness and the supernatural, and featuring characters like maniacs and vampires, Gothic fiction is more about sheer terror than Dark Romanticism’s themes of dark mystery and skepticism regarding man. Still, the genre came to influence later Dark Romantic works, particularly some of those produced by Poe.[9] Earlier British authors writing within the movement of Romanticism such as Lord Byron, Samuel Coleridge, Mary Shelley, and John Polidori who are frequently linked to gothic fiction are also sometimes referred to as Dark Romantics. Their tales and poems commonly feature outcasts from society, personal torment, and uncertainty as to whether the nature of man will bring him salvation or destruction.

Ulalume

The skies they were ashen and sober;The leaves they were crisped and sere -The leaves they were withering and sere;It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year:It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,In the misty mid region of Weir -It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. Here once, through and alley Titanic,Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul -Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.These were days when my heart was volcanic As the scoriac rivers that roll -As the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous currents down YaanekIn the ultimate climes of the pole -That groan as they roll down Mount YaanekIn the realms of the boreal pole. Our talk had been serious and sober,But our thoughts they were palsied and sere -Our memories were treacherous and sere, -For we knew not the month was October,And we marked not the night of the year(Ah, night of all nights in the year!) -We noted not the dim lake of Auber(Though once we had journeyed down here) -Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. And now, as the night was senescent And star-dials pointed to morn -As the star-dials hinted of morn -At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born,Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn -Astarte’s bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn. And I said: “She is warmer than Dian;She rolls through an ether of sighs -She revels in a region of sighs:She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks, where the worm never dies,And has come past the stars of the Lion To point us the path to the skies -To the Lethean peace of the skies -Come up, in despite of the Lion,To shine on us with her bright eyes -Come up through the lair of the Lion,With love in her luminous eyes.” But Psyche, uplifting her finger,Said: “Sadly this star I mistrust -Her pallor I strangely mistrust:Ah, hasten! -ah, let us not linger!Ah, fly! -let us fly! -for we must.”In terror she spoke, letting sink her Wings until they trailed in the dust -In agony sobbed, letting sink her Plumes till they trailed in the dust -Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust. I replied: “This is nothing but dreaming:Let us on by this tremulous light!Let us bathe in this crystalline light!Its Sybilic splendour is beaming With Hope and in Beauty tonight! -See! -it flickers up the sky through the night!Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,And be sure it will lead us aright -We safely may trust to a gleaming,That cannot but guide us aright,Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night.” Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,And tempted her out of her gloom -And conquered her scruples and gloom;And we passed to the end of the vista,But were stopped by the door of a tomb -By the door of a legended tomb;And I said: “What is written, sweet sister,On the door of this legended tomb?”She replied: “Ulalume -Ulalume -‘Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!” Then my heart it grew ashen and sober As the leaves that were crisped and sere -As the leaves that were withering and sere;And I cried: “It was surely October On this very night of last year That I journeyed -I journeyed down here! -That I brought a dread burden down here -On this night of all nights in the year,Ah, what demon hath tempted me here?Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber -This misty mid region of Weir -Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.”

-Edgar Allan Poe

“Dark romanticism is my life. It let’s the mind feel at ease even if you are speaking of horrors. It gives the world raw uncut emotion. We all know that life isn’t all about sunshine and smiles… I am able to express life, love, etc… In their worst forms.”

-Poetrii

How much I love her...

Cold hearted When the night is no longer young The day has been undone And the temperature is just right to hold my baby A hot head When the sun is blazing And her attire leaves nothing to the imagination I'm left to gaze dumb founded at her profound curves And the astonishing beauty that is her Wet behind the ears When the body is made up of 130% of water Because when the rain begins to pour, our bodies collide Inside... to hide our friction from the electricity written upon the sky The thunder plays to the same beat as our sheets And within all these stages of me I still find a way to enjoy the fact that she's priceless,And that our time together is timeless She is the most beautiful painting I have ever possessed The deepest poem I have ever written She is graffiti sprayed permanently on the walls of my brain I can't help but to have consistent thoughts of the happiness she has brought me I can't help but to have sweet dreams about the lady laying next to me In the darkest corner of the universe Her smile illuminates the gloom, brightens the room And gives the illusion of rainbows I was trapped in a hell and she found a way to release my soul She is worth more than pure gold to me Even if I died I would find away to rise from my current state just to see her face To place a kiss on every inch of her To assure her that I would never dream of leaving her for any reason Every second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year, and season She gives me more reasons to love her, more reasons to trust her And if you x-ray my heart, you'll see her at the bottom If you look deeply enough into my eyes, you'll see her resting next to my thoughts And if you search our home you'll find tiny pieces of paper, scribbled on with feelings You'll find that her veins have been replaced with lines of poetry And that my words keep her heart beating, you can read between the lines You'll find the true definition to our connection I am her shadow, and she is my reflection. I am her miracle and she is my blessing And as much as I want to keep writing this poem about her... She's on her way over, And she gets my undivided attention I'll use the rest of my time wisely, look over this and make sure I didn't forget to mention How much I love her... ©Poetrii

Black summer's night...

Lately I've been thinking...Music is taking a dark dusty road to ignoranceFor those of you who think like I do...Here is the benediction

Most cd's being put on the market (might I be blunt) Were trash GARBAGE...Yet, maxwell made his way back into the spotlight with "Black summers night"Consuming and stimulating the nerves in my brain and giving my heart a new beatIf you have not purchased this album this I must say..."You're probably an asshole"And, I feel sorry for you, because you are missing out on one hell of a cd.If you didn't know, Now you know...

Be easy...1<3

Poetrii

http://www.imeem.com/people/lLt4BR_/playlist/vMAhRYKn/black-summers-night-music-playlist/

Change...

I came across this picture, and it just really caught my attention.It shows talent, depth, struggle, and so much more than most could imagine.

"Keep your coins, I want change"

It makes my mind a kaleidoscopic universe. Rummaging and rambling through the inner workings of the human being. Taking it apart thought by thought. Developing and analysing the word "change"Redefining the cry of help from those who are poverty stricken.

Poetrii... 1<3

Home...

I have learned alot about we as a people, This is simply one of the conclusions I have come to... People do what they feel as though they have to do, But never what should be done. It doesn't even matter if an entire state has been buried under ash, or water. Even if something needs to be done immediately, they put us last on the list. Why? Because it can be put off until later. Who are we?... to them. Hoodlums and insubordinates destined to die by the hands of destitution. People never do what needs to be done, Until they have no other choice. That's when the chaos strikes fear into the hearts of superiors. When the feeble minded and inferior begin to whisper the truth, when there is nothing left to be said. That's when they have no other choice than to care. No other choice than to change.

No one can see the true beauty of the ghetto.

What you suffer, is what you build.I know what needs to be done, whether I choose to do them or not. I refuse to play the victim, I accept where I am, because I appreciate where I am from. Even living in hell, will teach you things that you have never known, and show you things that you never thought you would see. And no matter where I go, I'll never be reluctant to call this place home.

Poetrii...1<3

Color blind...

Whose to say the world isn't all black and white.

Color blind? Color blind can't keep you from deciphering the difference.

The world is simply that... The world. Mother nature and father time combined is no more treacherous than a man and woman combination.(Male and male, female and female). Life is simply what we make it. Everything that the world is suffering is simply because we have pushed it to the limit. I believe that what people don't do, won't happen. Nothing makes this world trash other than the trashy people who live in it. We all have control over our actions and input for our decisions. There is never an excuse for wrong doing. People, Unless you have some documentation from your physician that states otherwise, then your just ignorant and life has consumed your essence. I can't even begin to explain how unhappy I am with this world I was forced into. Everyone wants to be THAT person, when in all actuality most of you are just greedy, unloved, and confused.People killing, and being killed over something as simple as paper. People give up completely and let drugs over power their lives. People are living on the streets. NO ONES SURPRISED! Because if someone is going to be on top then someone has to be at the bottom. It's not always their fault. PEOPLE push others to their breaking points. There's is no quicker way to get to the top of the steps, than to remove any and everyone blocking your path. Life is as black and white as it gets. It's actually very simple. It's these idiots who make it complex. If there were ever a time for change, I say now is the time. We're long over due.

On the day when the rainbows have completely illuminated the grey mixture of toxic waste that is life, then you'll find peace and joy within yourself and those around you. We will have evaded the misery that we deserve.

Be easy 1<3

Bartender...

Bartender...Double shots of hennesy, on the rocks I just lost my mind and I think my hearts about to stop More than long nights with lights off Jaws dropping Draws dropping I just lost my heart and I think my minds about to stop Two shots of vodka on the rocks And heavy on the mountains, weighing tons on my brain My fountain of youth taking years off my age Leaving me open and vulnerable, It's uncontrollable And actually adding stress to my face Bartender!... Get on your game, if my glass reaches empty I'm going insane I'm not feeling optimistic, my glass is half empty so nothing remains I got a pocket full of ones, and a little bit off change I got a closet full of exes, and nothing has really changed Just past voluptuous entities to take my brain So I'm flying off illusion, an infatuated delusion Tried and true showing proof of the holy karmasutra Tried every position just to end up back on this stool Head spinning like a whirlpool, walking tipsy like an old fool Sitting in the furthest corner from the door rambling on about rainbows Yet, I'm set on black and white. Future, past. Day and night Staring at fine women through drunken sight Blurred vision keeps me whistling at every ass that walks past Gotdammit Bartender!... Where the hell is my re-up Just hand me the bottle and a cup Cause now I'm way past drunk... I'm fucked up And thinking back to those shiesty shitty situations that used to involve me Those souls that i indulged but never revolved around me Now my stomach turning, did I forget to eat? Anyway bartender, shot of tequila, patron, and a glass on long island iced tea I see myself across the room, and I try to remember when I lost me Lost amongst these glass crutches filled with sleepless dreams I try to reach and stumble, because I'm way beyond my reach I try and call my name, but the shame controls when I can speak I watch my soul drip from the tips of shallow necked bottles into the belly of these beasts Who can't find peace within themselves so they find peace within these drinks Just like... me I throw my keys Bartender... Call us a cab, we need some sleep. I intend to find my mind before my heart stops beating I intend to heal my heart before my mind starts grieving Farewell pain and insecurity or whatever your reason I found my problem and that's the reason We're leaving.

How far will people go, simply to be comfortable

With this, Now we know that people will fuck over the dead for a couple bucks. I believe that the people found guilty should have dior consequences. Extreme and absolute punishment. To disrespect the peace of the deceased is unacceptable. Now the story... Exclusive: Emmett Till's casket left to waste at Burr Oak Cemetery debacle grows worse with discovery of coffin of civil rights icon Comments July 10, 2009 BY MARY MITCHELL Sun-Times Columnist Broken. Rusted. Battered. The image of a glass-covered casket with the body of Emmett Till was shown around the world in the 1950s. But on Thursday, as hundreds of African Americans searched frantically for the graves of love ones, the battered casket of Till was rusting in the back of a shack at Burr Oak Cemetery in Alsip. The casket was surrounded by garbage and discarded headstones strewn about like litter. » Click to enlarge image The original coffin that had contained Emmett Louis Till (inset) was found at Burr Oak Cemetery Thursday in an old work area. The original casket was supposed to be part of a planned memorial for Till at Burr Oak Cemetery. (Scott Stewart/Sun-Times, AP) PHOTO GALLERY Emmett Till's original casket RELATED STORIESFamilies anguished over dug up graves Video: Sheriff Dart discusses investigation 4 charged with digging up graves Photos: Investigating Burr Oak BURR OAK INFO (708) 865-6070(800) 942-1950E-mail: burroakcemeteryinvestigation@gmail.com "When we opened it up trying to find what we have, a family of possums ran out," said Cook County Sheriff Tom Dart. Cemetery workers had been cooperative and informed law enforcement officials that it was indeed Till's original casket. "It sure looks like all of the photos I have ever seen," Dart said. "This is absolutely horrible." In June 2005, Till's body was exhumed during an investigation of his death. As is customary, he was not reburied in the same casket. The original casket was supposed to be part of a planned memorial for Till at Burr Oak Cemetery, but the donations for that memorial were allegedly pocketed by a woman who has been charged in this ghoulish scheme. Till, 14, was kidnapped and murdered after he whistled at a white woman in 1955 in Mississippi. The lynching of the Chicago youth helped spark the civil rights movement. A picture of his severely mutilated face was shown around the world. His original casket is symbolic of the condition of the battered condition of the cemetery. Officers raided the cemetery at 4400 W. 127Th St. in Alsip on Wednesday morning. Four people, including Carolyn Towns -- the woman who was supposed to set up the Till memorial -- were charged with one count of dismemberment of a human body. The other charged employees were Keith Nicks, 45; Terrence Nicks, 39, and Maurice Dailey, 59. Throughout the day, Cook County sheriff's deputies ferried anxious family members to grave sites in buses ordinarily used to take inmates to Cook County Jail. The landscape in some sections of the cemetery was dotted with orange utility flags that some people mistakenly thought indicated desecrated graves. But beyond the grassy areas at Burr Oak, hidden by a wall of high weeds and buried under mounds of dirt, is the nightmare that all of these African Americans were praying they were spared. The Cook County sheriff's office now estimates that about 300 bodies were dumped in the rear of Burr Oak, in an area that is about the size of three football fields.

Gone...

What happens when the sun stops shining The moons stops glowing And the stars stop glistening Will we stop arguing, If I stop listening Can I accomplish goals if I stop wishing per second Will she come back to me if I stop missing her essence Her intelligence Her elegance I can't believe I lost a love that took me years to find Even though our time together was short She will forever be in my mind And I'll never find another her I don't intend to search for a moon brighter than my sun To find a woman worthy enough to bear my daughter or son And I know she was the one Despite my imperfections and her flaws I would have given her my all And I know she had to love me, I could see it in her eyes I was surprised to find them crying out for desperation My eyes scoping her face and her smile is so perfect But it couldn't hide the pain she endured, And the fact that she didn't deserve it Beautiful antique, Tarnished and bruised Waiting to be refurbished. What happens when the sun stops shining The moons stops glowing And the stars stop glistening I wonder if she's missing me, Wishing she was kissing me I wonder if she feels how I feel And honestly I hope she doesn't Because my heart is deteriorating as I speak My mind is a mess I haven't slept I haven't eaten And I'm weak I love her too much to know that she's not as happy as she seems And perceives herself to be I want to delete her number simply to resist the temptation to call And ask her why it didn't last Why did love stab and painfully force this dagger through my last breath Make you my past to fast and way before we could have a future or present day And a way to always make it back at night to say I love you I need to ask her What happens when the sun stops shining The moons stops glowing And the stars stop glistening

In my opinion...

I believe in what makes sense to me. In what actually seems logical. I will not believe in everything, But I refuse to believe in nothing. Religion, disasters, hatred, love, life is nothing more than fear to me. The fear of going to hell, the fear of having loved and lost, The fear of losing life. I feel as though I should live my life how I see fit, I do what's "right" to me. I feel as if I have been better, and have been the best. I have done this before in a previous time. What you suffer, is what you build.I know what needs to be done, whether I choose to do them or not.I refuse to play the victim, I accept where I am, because I appreciate where I am from.Even living in hell, will teach you things that you have never known, and show you things that you never thought you would see. And no matter where I go, I'll never be reluctant to call this place home. Have you ever heard a whisper when no one else was around? Felt someone watching you? Heard something fall or just make noise for no reason? I have recently been studying the origin of my ancestors.They say when we die we simply move into another dimension. These souls watch over you,they are there to protect and guide you. They know things about you that you don't even know about yourself or things you just don't want to admit outside of private thoughts. ... Do I believe this? Yes. I understand that when anyone dies, they move into another dimension. Becoming the past,Ancestors, guides to the future. They claim their same characteristics. Who they were in this world is the same person they are in the next dimension. Most who believe are from China, Africa, Malaysia and Polynesia. This is one of the reasons why I admire and respect other countries cultures so much, because they believe in more than what's in front of their faces. They take the time and they do the work to fully support Their beliefs. America is stuck on living for the day. Instead of preparing themselves for the after life. To do more than just enough to get you to the top, But to mold yourself into greatness and share it with the world. They say what ever doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. but... What if it kills you? Who can answer that? I can. Also, There are five basic soul levels. Each level has many lifetimes of lessons to teach us wisdom through trial and error. THE INFANT SOUL INFANT SOULS choose lessons of physical survival. They live in simple situations that include intense experiences - famine, plagues, floods, wars,oppression, etc. They don't know the difference between right and wrong, though they can be taught to be decent human beings. They don't usually seek higher education and often don't seek employment, as such. Infant souls don't question authority and willingly adopt the religion of their parents as is. THE BABY SOUL BABY SOULS display less fear than infant souls and are more sophisticated. But they tend to over apply rules. Black is black as far as they're concerned. Their strong early beliefs remain fixed in their minds, regardless of lack of their wisdom or tolerance. Baby souls love to become big fish in their little puddles...but hate being opposed. Because of this they may spend much time in litigation. Baby souls don't spend time navel-gazing into their own lives. They're often "good students" that learn "proper subjects," and are attracted to fundamentalist religions. THE YOUNG SOUL YOUNG SOULS are the "Donald Trumps" of the world...the movers and shakers. They usually set the bar too high for themselves. Achievement is paramount. They chase after what they believe will bring success without ever stopping to think why - because they're so limited in their perception. They fear death and must have all the toys, experiences, fame and money they can possibly accumulate before they die. They are designers of civilization. Young souls usually seek higher education and graduate-level degrees. Their views of orthodoxy are at one end of the spectrum or the other. Monks and nuns are at one end and a belief in total sexual freedom, the other. They have difficulty with insight into other people's behaviour. THE MATURE SOUL MATURE SOULS challenge the young soul's desire to "have it all." It is a hard cycle that demands seeking answers to life's tough questions. They are attracted to gentler faiths, such as Quaker, Unitarian, or Buddhist.Mature souls are not as open to the occult as old souls. They look for and question the motivation for all of life's actions. They often continue within appropriate relationships - perhaps believing that through self-sacrifice, or tough lessons they will ultimately prevail. Often they can't shake their sense of duty. Mature souls suffer from stress related illness that sometimes results in schizophrenia, psychosis and a higher suicide rate than other souls.[Cayce emphasized the role that `stress' plays in not only physical illnesses but also mental illnesses; he believed it was `stress' that wrecked havoc on the brain chemistry/balance]. But they're smart enough to seek professional help without urging. Mature souls often make huge contributions to knowledge - particularly philosophical and scientific. But altogether they don't necessarily have the drive for fame, many still achieve it. They're emotionally high maintenance. THE OLD SOUL OLD SOULS live and let live. They seek the route of least resistance...they're individualistic and usually easy going. They have an inner knowing of the waste of time in pursuing fame and fortune and therefore create the appearance of being "laid back." Old souls are highly competent - even in roles they don't particularly like. They tend to choose work that is pleasant and undemanding, leaving them free to pursue their desired goals easily...unless the job adds to the spiritual search. They may or may not seek higher education...but definitely will seek it if they sense it's needed for their chosen path. Old souls create confidence in animals. And their choice of medical care tends to be alternative and holistic. Old souls are here to teach others their spiritual understandings. Their philosophies and writings are simple and easy to read. Old souls religion is far reaching and has no label. A grove of trees is a sacred place to them. They seldom cling to dogma and prefer personal spiritual practices. However, old souls are wise enough to be discreet in their religious practices and know how to pass in public undetected. They focus on searching for the spiritual truth and have a finer sense of knowing what is true than any other souls level. Old souls all over the world share the experience of emptiness and a longing for that feeling of home. I can definitely pick myself, and others I know out of this group.When things make sense they just fall into place, I already had the experience and knowledge of voodoo, and black magic. I will tell you this, You may not believe it Until you say it. But I assure you that when you see it, you'll want to know more. My people are from the very deep south. They spent time practicing these things. I witnessed crazy shit over the years and that was all the proof I needed. It doesn't have to make sense to you, because it makes sense to me. -Poetrii

Like No Other

No one could ever tell me that my love for her wasn't true

My brain beats to her heart beats and We connect on that level

See what we have is something special

Yet inexperienced

We haven't took the time to take a dip in the water and experience

We haven't went through the example of being the sacrificial lamb

Discussing communication patterns and truth

Instead in the beginning its like a war

And we have to fight for our love In the way we deserve it

We have to signify exactly who we are to each other

Love needs time to build trust

Love needs time to build appreciation, Honesty

Love needs time to build that bond, Until you become fond of one another

It lets you marinate and ripen in the safe and secure arms of love

See once that bond is built and I trust you and you trust me

We can love each other eternally

When I appreciate the things you do and you appreciate me

When we can tell each other the truth no matter how bad it seems

You can break down your wall

and I can let down my guard

And there's nothing in between us that could ever stop the emotions

There's nothing left to affect the affection

And the recollections of our connection that we have explored on our journey

Until the light no longer continues to exist in the back of our minds

But instead its lit and shines so brightly in front of our faces

When we can invade each others spaces

When we can lock eyes and share a life time

When we can totally isolate ourselves from everyone else in the room

And bottle ourselves in this little space...

This place of tranquility

Where your love relaxes me, and my love enlightens you

And we float off into space

Only to exchange,once again, heartbeats

So that we may continue our endeavor

Writing, Painting, Capturing our path as we walk it

Dancing, only to the sounds of the wind

Speaking breath taking actions

When we make it to that place where we don't feel chained or locked away

On that day when that ball and chain feels like freedom at its best

And we lay,

My back to the grass

Your chest to my chest

Your back to the sun

Floating solely on the feelings we have for each other

Gazing into each others eyes

Revealing how much you love, want, and need me

My eyes revealing how much I admire, respect, and adore you

When you aren't just my reason for living you are my life

And i would never play Russian roulette with bullets of lies and deceit

It is out of my hands and beyond my reach

Its the reason I awaken, I work, I play, I sleep

Fate decided to let us meet now our destiny's are determined by how we play the cards

So I only dish out what I mean

And I only pick up what i can handle

I can only deal the cards I have

And I Offer you the king of hearts

Hoping that you will always be my queen

Loving you unconditionally and letting nothing intervene

When I can receive energy from your knowledge

When you give me peace of mind

That leaves me a piece to find

Leaving me to upgrade my wisdom and redefine the whole existence of our love

Leaving me to explore a greater truth than what we have become

As we both enjoy a love like no other.

-Poetrii