A Pocketful of Mirrors

by Sebastciaun T Censtcuriaus

What good to thee I say to refute
my own state of being that thy must love
for thee more than that of me?

To Die a Thousand dreams is better
than a moment in endless time

For without you in my Time

It is my own lusciously planted crime

In my rhyme a hidden word so vast

Can you dare to step into this hidden realm?

Can you hear my knocks of innocent tears?

Escaping from all of my childhood fears

Releasing all of my spiteful Hate

All in mathematical prose
I write it in such a form of verbose;
a means that it never lessens the likes to scream!

Yell a Tear

Hear my Cry

My innocent years for this
is sanity beating at my door!

All For Love

For the sake of reflecting the biggest mirror

Rippling the illusion,

A never ending radiance of vision

What is it if this will ever come to be?

Without your pocket so
I can place my mirror?