Secret World

      I'm cold, the icy, bitter emptiness

      Chilling me to the soul.

      A deep chaotic chasm opens in my

      hidden world. An unescapable

      black pit! At the sight, it fills my

      soul with dread.

      Out of the pit rise horrors,

      monsters, beasts of all sorts, out

      of my worst nightmares. I try to

      escape but I find no where to go,

      no escape, no exit. I am trapped

      in my own secret world.

      Despair

      I know it is there, waiting to reach

      out, to bite into my flesh with it's

      vile, poisoned fangs to turn it into

      cold, frosted glass.

      It lies waiting for some moment of deep

      despair to come and for me to loose

      my guard. Then to come and bite, ripping into

      my flesh, turning it to ice.

      I am watching, waiting for it to come. I

      know it will. When? I don't know, but

      soon for even now I know deep choking

      despair is creeping over me.

      Despair is here now and I wait, hopeless,

      knowing it is coming, no longer creeping

      silently but running quickly towards me.

      I try to run, my despair pulling me down.

      I turn to look into it's cold blank

      eyes. It knows I lost my battle. My soul

      has wept and now I'm weak. I no longer control

      my body. I am limp as it sinks its teeth into

      my still, but barely living flesh, turning it to stone.

      My soul now stone, I watch the world

      through eyes gone cold and icy. I don't

      know love only pain and blinding cold.

      It laughs, knowing my bleak and horrid

      future, trapped alive in ice.

      Both written April 29, 1993.

      Dearest Daddy

      I remember a time with you

        when we'd sit by a river

      and all that we'd do

        was wait for the fish to strike.

      All day we'd wait,

        with one bite here, one nibble there,

      but not once would our lines pull straight.

        Those were the days - were they not?

      Even if we didn't catch fish that day

        I'll remember it always.

      Now I look back and I hope and I pray

        that next time we'll be more lucky!

      Written June 18, 1994 --the day before Father's Day and my Dad's birthday as an extra gift to give him.

      My Teacher - My Hope

      You've been my best teacher - my only hope

        to learn what's right from wrong.

      Looking back I know I've been a dope -

        A teen paying little attention.

      I've done bad things

        that made you worry

      but to me that brings

        a knowledge - You love me!

      The worry I've caused you

        is a hurt deep in my soul.

      I never meant the things I do

        to cause you pain - I love you!

      Written for my mother - June 18, 1994

      Love Lost

      Lady, teary eyed and crying, her lover

        lost.

      Missing him dearly, she knows, they

        will never meet again.

      Her father, royalty high, the two he

        found in the room of his daughter.

      Lovers they are, one hight and one low,

        never meant to be together.

      Apart they are sent never more to see

        the light of the lovers moon in

        the window or the face of the

        one true love away.

      The lover, dark and chained in the

        dungeon below, the tall tower her prison.

      The castle lies still, an unwilling

        keeper.

      The platform he stands, quiet and held,

        his lady watching in horor.

      His only crimes, the ones her father

        had made.

      The lady cries out as he leaves her.

        She felt the pain of his passing.

      Pain shared and love lost.

        Her life is over.

      The court yard below looms up.

        Her thoughts only of him.

      She knows the way now and soon

        she will come to him with arms outstretched.

      She sees him and eagerly embraces.

      Their love together now and forever

        and always this strong will it be.

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