Candy Cane Lane

Holding hands
to the -
train ride.

This plot of revenge
and anxiety is no
friend of mine.

I take care in
making my decisions
that matter.

Trusting the narrative element
is an assembly through time,
choosing between perjury and patronage.

A philosophy of learning.

How I have changed.

Counter intuitive are for
those who do not know
any better to surprise.

I shall not forget nor regret.

Like fine antique china:
unbreakable -
I enjoy the finer
- things in life.

Its been phenomenal.

Its been a wonderful
premonition - and even
better to follow.

My middle name is status,
boss of no planet.

While nothing can eclipse
the nature of my soul,
my spirit, my humanity
may reveal.

As the victim stops to
keep an expected role,
none will anticipate it.

I slayed the beast;
within me,
trapping the monsters shadowy
figure.

As I transformed
to become itself. . .
a tower of thoughtful power.

What am I - but not
if gods own mercy
my poetic will for survival.

For those that practice
martyrdom, the concept
of evil lives without
peace.

I am not a sinner to confess of it.

Martyrdom is a dogma in
the false belief of fortune.

An inherent evil - I will not adopt.

No less than I care
for an apology.

I am attracted only
to the source of
an energy.

I consume myself with
no need, want, or the
desire in being refused.

How I love to gaze
at sparkling star-lit
night skies.

How it lifts and
propels me, my
heart swollen wide.

Streched out, and open spirit.

Aboard the pirate ship,
he who walks the plank
will plunge into the depth.

Condescending and immature,
martyrs will not deny
they have fallen out of
favor or obey the
rules of god.

The rule of god alienates every
martyr as mortals.

Therefore, in martyrs
immortality does not materialize.

Martyrs are of false witness
to god, baring no resemblence
in the challenge of gods will,
charity, or in sacrifice.

I am not a martyr.

I do not believe in martyrs.

A true believer sees what the
martyr cannot face, the martyr
runs to hide behind = from facing its fear
of god as
deathly.

Like a revolt
leading the revolution
. . . a rebellious band of hippies,
tribal groups, that refuse issues of conformity,
like martyrs guess
they have nowhere to turn
live upon as though an "educated-lie"
entitles them with privilege to act
as if god cannot exist
in the universe known
to man.

I will wager against a dragon-
dressed-to-kill, in my
wager I will win.

This sound I hear, if you
listen to me, is a song of fire
I release.

Eternity: has a perfect pulse!

God is independant of
virtue = requires
"group feeling"
mixed with prayer,
blended in hope.

It is easy to be yourself,
why martyrs simply look
like jerks?