Poetry

He cannot say that he loathed the darkness, it helped him to relish the light......

Though he may have desired a long dreamless slumber
Lies and truth battles in a dance for control

He was in a keen state of his disease

He wrote, erased and re-wrote his own demise

He sought redemtion, even though, half heartedly
In the end he held on to his pain

Clutching it, feeling it, it dictated his short life; 29 years on the spinning ball

He was not of my kind, I felt his heartbeat in time with mine, tho.

Are we not in love with dispair?
I did not know you my cousin, my friend

But I know you, I was almost there once.

Rest in Peace, in the loving hands of GOD

I see you in the prisms of my tears.