Category: 11 Book/5 Stages of Grief

A sample from Book 11

 Allegorium
(Sweet Man)
  
 (what is it in life
 if you can't tell
wrong from right
 to see in sight
what is of great heights
 to know
from a wrong fight
and a right fight
 ‒one worth the cry
one not worth the try)
  
 there was a yell, a scream
an act of rage
 mixed in scents of sage
  
 she would leave
she would leave today
 her bags...she began to pack
 ‒the stress off her back
  
 she voiced everything
she wanted to sack
 her mind lost in a haze
 remembering
all those great days
 ‒reasons why she stayed
  
 anger filled in a maze
this way, that way
 ‒which path to take
  
 wanting to run
 in spite of the fun
 then in comes the pun‒ 
standing eye to eye
 tears suddenly
fill in cry
  
 we just can't be together  

 shaking
coming from deep inside

 I know 

 each not willing to move‒ 
standing their ground
 knowing
without making a sound
 it all comes down
to mixes in race
 different traditions
different tastes
  
 but that's just the base
 to what lies beneath‒
 experiences
in the lace
  
 wanting her to stay
 knowing
his moments in rage
 ‒can't keep her in a cage
 from her mind
it won't fade
 searching
for words to say
  
 wanting nothing in fright
 in his dark eyes‒ 
seeing the willing light
 wanting her to seek it
 please make it bright
 understand the hard in my life
 for it, I had to fight
 sealing up everything inside
  
 confusion succumbed‒ 
the sudden in rays
 from his silent, pleading glaze
 it's not just his aces and eights
 that's on the take
  
 she adds up the sum
to it, he wasn't dumb
 every piece, every crumb
has to be sorted‒
 to smooth out
the constant lump
  
 another chance
another steady ride
 taking each side
 ‒what's buried in hide
 no matter how many lows and highs
 wobbling
through pass homicides
 all those moments‒ 
others confused their minds
 making them want to pounce‒
 in anger...quickly dive
  
 thinking through it‒ 
hearing every sound
 warnings, confusion, heart‒
 feeling the surface of found
 wondering where its bound
this constant round
 has to sooner or later
release its hound
 when wanting to stay
is all around
  
 softly relaxing
the lines on her face
 that unconditional
is not in a trace
 ‒it's in the base
of foundation's lace
 without living in a race
  
 what others see as a toxic tray
 may just be
the difference in race
 in raised traditional's case
 ‒angers set in
wanting to be erased
  
 each learning to let go‒
 what once slapped them
in the face
 releasing anger's ways
 that keeps trapping them
in a haze
 ‒exploding in a blaze
  
 what is it in life
 if you can't tell
wrong from right
 to see in sight
what is of great heights
 ‒to know Jesus'† life
why for us, He† died
  
 love is worth the ride
for it, pay the price
 for the reward
   everlasting life  

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