If A Heart Could Speak
It would say this
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Black Abyss I run Into this black hole of an empty abyss Loveless I drift Fragrances of loneliness plague my attire For I am drifting running missing in this empty abyss The situation isn't solely desperate but dire Ripping running Lipping tonguing Her scent begets sentiments from me Twisting the very fabric every crumb of my sanity The very thought the tingle of her kiss The savory delectable lips they form full flesh like wings those angelic demonic things Tempting me to taste heaven Those ripe delights Her kiss is a lantern in this empty loveless shell of an abyss This vacancy This emptiness Tours this rigid apocalypse of where infernos used to myth This abyss of self-centeredness cause and effect of direct foolishness Maybe youth can be my excuse Yet I'm a vagabond in a tomb of flesh cursed by doom Entry to a life marked of loveless death prior to ejecting from the womb But all that could matter is her My sole purpose of love that warms my center that thuds I ache for her everything For without my everything I am nothing Dangling for something But not just anything will do In this abyss I need love light A reason to search and fight In this abyss I need you So I run and stay along this path of loneliness until I find the other half of my rift Until I find the Mrs. This fantasy or nightmare to a half-empty glass I drift Into a pool of darkness Loveless Empty dreams that won't mean anything until I can taste those lips And occupy those hips Leave trails of my presence imprints of entrance My love intertwined with her essence I am a peasant hounding for morsels of her torso The pleasure of being more than just a memory But consuming her all becoming her everything This fantastic fantasy Until I salvage the better half of me I remain in this canyon of misery This black empty abyss Let the lanterns be her kiss.
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About the Book
I was told that I couldn't find success as a writer, I was assured that I would never be something, I was even told how I should live my life. Yet success isn't measured by a dollar its measured by the goals you set. I never set out to make a million or even a billion I set out to write what I felt and what was me I checked my pulse and realized I was breathing I guess my success can still be achieved. They reassured themselves that they proved to me I was worthless and a waste of life. By the age of 21 I was already a father a son a brother a friend and a story that had no ending yet I think I still have a lot to prove. Then I was told how I should live my life, yet no one told me how to escape my death so I kept it moving. This isn't a story for riches and glory this is about a guy who met a pen and wrote some things that mean something.