Lucid Dreaming

I saw Jesus at my feet. I was 6 years old when these haunting episodes began to disturb me - thus changing my life forever. During these nights since, I have been swallowed in thru my subconscious, telling me how far my soul could be fed in dreams. The places I've been to are vast lucid, to the point I have mastered the art of control. Such recurrences I would fly off in a trance a retrograde of forces opposing life. I would taste the scent of blood coming out of death's scythe. Vivid visions guide me into clarity - that faith is real and the only possession I could embrace.

I saw Jesus at my feet. I could drive my eyes straight looking at my body, asleep and lifeless. The mocking sound fades and back, tranceiving from channeled curiosity. I tend to dig deep not realizing amazing discoveries. I could touch my face, smell the heat of the earth, drink in so lucious food that's never bitter but satisfying. Flowing with the river, my spirit never aches. The more it played with zephyr, the more it soothed. Life has never been so real.

I saw Jesus at my feet. I may have died countless times I've been lored by beings I would'nt see, but felt. Intensely it strangled me tight up my neck down inside my spine. I could never utter even mumbles. Breathing sighs are helpless and weak. Immobility is present. I could only hear vibrations of the unknown. So strong it leads me to the faint of giving up. Slowly I am defeated. A horrifying giggle comes into my ear daunting, frightening the whole of my existence.

I saw Jesus at my feet. I looked at him straight in the eye. He wanted to tell me something I know. How I ignored these signs! It seems the devil has forgotten to remind me of the consequences. He always does defying stigma. The good battle has it's limits he says. Lovely time I am taking it all out from you. I ever wished to hold you dear. In my captive you will be safe. You will be immortal. You will be mine.

I saw Jesus at my feet. With exhausted hands I stressed myself retaliating revenge. I am to cease this war for once - an effort for redemption. I shook hands with death. I saw it coming in thousand currents. Streaming hums now clearer at distorted shape defeaning. A withered vision still to losing. Limbs agonized, shackled, wrecked. Bones shivered. Sanity shut. Breath gone.

Dear God save me.
I gasped for air.

The Dearth Of Love

Sipped into sedation, I sum up all the injustice betraying me still. I am at weak presence out my doorstep. An ethereal glow come flashing right through the heart of the wicked one. In solaced sincerity, I am numb to the core, unable to tell when the tears are to think sadness again. I am alone. To the most of my time, more desperate to find peace in another callousness I could hardly defy. Anguish talks in tacit I despise. My seclusion has got it real begotten since I felt doom seething in. Is this where I'm supposed to move? A pace in an empty room, with an empty soul, God knows how thoughtful I am to being someone who understands. I needed a guiding light than most of those who have lost faith. So long I held it close. So long I am never to let it go. Tell me now, tell me to dance away from your eyes, and I will hold you for once. I will kiss the shape you took to making this suffering leave to nothingness. I will curse you out of death to eternity of the love you deserve. You are grace. You are angel. With you I could learn to laugh again. I will cherish this very solitude, for it fades now. I will keep your pain safe to cure your miseries never to dwell again. I will enfold it wary a candle, only warmth of pure passion in between. Lie awake still, as we breath embracing our pieces together of bliss and of joy. I am not going anywhere. I am loved. When the rest of me burns, dearth is gone.