A HELPLESS MAN AND THE MISTRESS OF THE NIGHT!

Illusions of a once thought lost, clarity as dark as the fearce and raging thunderstorms that posses one’s mind
For once one has seen the ever so changing ways of a grace with a blackened rose, they cannot return
The dark place that consume’......s the mind of the weak and strong alike, such eligance and might, such passion and love, all a simple trick of the eye

Smoke and mirrors elude the mightiest of men, but shall not pass him twice
For once seen the illusion for what it truly is, one can never return
Heartbrocken and weak, barely able to stand the daily tourments of life as it isYet still standing alike, strong and proud
For this simple trick has a twin, an eye for an eye, a wimb for a wimb
With the possesion of such wisdom come’s to pass, the dark poisin has touched his lips, there is no turning backWithin hollow grounds and empty promise he rise’s from the depths
Only to find exactly for what he was looking for, with no surprise he falls once more

With nothing left but pride and shame, he allows nothing more than a small tear to leave his eye
For all that is lost, there is much more to give
So there he sit’s, hand in hand with the blackened rose that once caught his grasp
He ponders, wondering of such a day where the sun will rise more bright than ever before and the grass and flowers sway in the wind, whispering hope to all
Yet there is sin.A young mistress passes his way, only to stopAs any of the life and cruetly of the world of a brocken soul will count, this is not blessing but pity she must take
Yet non she give’s

This mistress of the night, see’s, herself through the trick
As another tear gracefully and unexpectidly leave’s his eye, she see’s
She see’s him not as the fool that has sercum to his own demise and misery
Yet as man brocken down by the ways of a fancy pearl that was never his to begin with

For in that moment, there was such a light
As the tear leaves his chin, and lightly corrsess against the soft edges of the rose
It shows it’s true formFor all he did in his past way, he was not of the race of the blackened soul
As the drop make’s it’s way down the rose, it take’s with it the baring of pain and suffering
For a once tortured soul to find light and buety in his bearing
As the blackened shadow withere’s away to never more, it show’s
With petals so bright it warms the heart and speaks to the sou
lFor once it came, to be, once again

A helpless soul and the kind warm hearted love of the mistress of the night!

by Ashley Charles Smith 6/09/2010 2:16AM