Can you call?

When voices are lost,
And nothing but silence echoes

Truly, it is too much-
To love with your all, it takes a cost
At the expense of yourself, you let go

Rear cheek,
And rob the moment of any frost,
Recompense, in word and not wound

What a world it could be,
If we weren't so self consumed.

Don't stop walking, the path will appear before you;
Love will remedy all your pain if you keep your heart open.
It's not about what we think or feel, it's what we know.
So, surround yourself with good folks
Surrender, and just go with the flow

Love given, but not taken, is not love un-received;
You have love to give,
That is something.
Whether their heart is open
To the souls' hymns
Your words sing,
The song is never wasted-
But goes through changes,
As the renewal of spring.

People talk, more than I.
I am ashamed of my past,
And confused about my life.
Where the history, of many lineages
Is well-described:
I am unaccustomed with mine.
What I know, of right & of wrong,
Is it predicated on the rule of the weak
By that of the strong?
The gaze thus glares from my eyes,
Does it live in black & in white?
Does bruised fruit still grow ripe?

I see a brother in every man,
But some men's egos need to be pet,
If sir suits him.
But what is there
More greater a term of endearment,
Besides father,
Than that which I utter
And wholeheartedly, in earnest, offer?

Each emination,
Hot as an inferno.
The breath I let escape
Burns before it boils,
Serpent, tongue coil.
The way you worked me;
Nailed the coffin, spread the soil.

Don't die on a hill
You are really only familiar with,
By name.

All the same,
Life is our own to live.

If you choose to lead it
With half-thought ideas;
You have only yourself to blame.

Dull ruts and periodic lulls, cast
Iron wrought.
A life of sea salt;
Choking on ocean foam, walking
On rusty bones
Sifting through ashes.
It's all growing old

Call me an animal,
Don't stand between me
And a fresh cut of meat

Hard to believe, we're the same mammal
In a stand-off, with one who bleeds
But not like me

Of that same air
Our lungs take in, we both breathe in
Scents of a different breed

**** your homogenies
Don't need a lecture on my biology
And you can keep your philosophy
If it comes from a book riddled with prophecy

Wicked kind of dichotomy.
In a country that pushes for peace
But funds war,
Who is it for?

Not the ones fighting
Not the ones dying