A message to my by now somewhat estranged readers

Dear old and new friends

 

I must apologize for my long hiatus. I did not mean to take so long to find you again although my absence was not entirely of my own free will. I have had the capability to begin this project again for some months now however. I apologize for th pause in my shouts into this void. I hope that someone will listen when I speak. It is not an easy thing to do to communicate in such a format. I will never know if more than a few of you appreciate what I do. But that should not stop me from attempting to say something worth saying. I have grown more in these last few months than I have in some time. I hope to grow with you again rather than on my own. Thank you for your patience. Or your willingness to start again with me. Or your willingness to start with me. I really hope to be able to find people to speak with in this rhetorical matter. My dreams will keep coming. And my hopes with them.

 

 

In Kittenish sincerity

 

L.s

 

knives

Flight is a thing I’ve never dreamed

Far too futile it’s ever seemed,

The loft of heaven lifts me not

Joys of the land I’ve not forgot

I stand on floors and sandy shores

Staring out to things untoward

The knives will fill my dreams

 

Kinesthetic memories wake as I walk

I judge the distance to a heart,

Or consider murderous trains of thought

And even if I cease to talk

Or my finger gives a sudden start

I try to forget what I’ve fought

specters path

Black hooded, specters path
Fast approaching psychopath
Wielding entropic wrath

Men are born and blades are falling

Reap and sow,
Die and grow
All soon struck low

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling

Deadly now a falling scythe
Legends flow into myth
Even now the victims writhe

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling
Cloth is worn and boys are brawling

Bodies covered in soft lace
Finally finished race
Slain by a foe they cannot face

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling
Cloth is worn and boys are brawling
Body’s shorn, death so galling

men ever on do try
never once reason why
once born destined to die

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling
Cloth is worn and boys are brawling
Body’s shorn, death so galling
Now they mourn, widows bawling