The Art Of Self-Mind Psychoing

its daunting presence is there,
but should it be feared?
should be even existent?
is it the truth?
or one from the eyes that see.
whilst these eyes are set for thou.
shalt it happen, meant to be?
the fence cuts through your existence
and my care.
the most un-wanted is
here.there.everywhere.
what have you come to see?
wronged bonds etched.
could this survive?
as the decay creeps.
i am reminded of history
know of deceit.
know what i can do.
fear what i can do.
hoping its we.

its like a knife sticking inside
and lust the masochist for the pressure
mirages of the sweet sweet desires.
heaven composed such dreamy opuses.
love stains the red of blood,
rich and crimson as time passes to timelessness.

oh dear.

dear flutter-er.
beauty and grace as it spreads.
warmth and love as it is lit.
these drawings have come to meet.

of mere man and angel.
met as wishes.
all that i can see,
is what my eyes cannot.

this angel envelops the ticking crux.
and through the end.
when the music stops.
it was beautiful while it lasted.

will it continue to tick?
does heaven write sequels?
all that i can see.