Neshama's Quiet

Her sadness is long but will not stain her dark beauty. For her loveliness comes from a deep stead where the pain will not tinge. Her past has left scares more numerous than the scientists’ resurrection but she manages to turn them to mellow and gentle flowers adding to her grace. Her dark and bright eyes make the moon herself too shy to radiate.

 

Yet her great poverty is seen only by those allowed inside her endless quiet. Ever the respite for those in need, she cradles her desire for a different time. This is done oft to her detriment for the kind heart can attract the lying tongue. Silently she suffers the unyielding pangs of guilt.

 

Her strength and bravery come from millennium of exertion by ancestors who moved history. Fearlessness passes through her veins feeding her spirit and authority in one enduring stream. She is owner of a shrine of truth many foes have discharged slings and arrows of hate to her berth. But a beauty remains that no vice shall mar.

-Johnny V.

Misguided Angel

His indelicate obsessions can all too often frighten his more gentle companions who feel awkward toward his deep passion. Regret consumes his extreme nature unable at times to avoid unwanted attention. Allowed only an immature vision of his aspect pain, none can comprend his heroic anguish. That lack of understanding makes his grasp of society seem powerless and  lost.

His unending task to garner weeping flowers already crushed amongst the mill-stones. He contiplates the sea with an impatient gaze as the acold wanton wind brushes his thwarted face. His lost eros, once a sweet cypress maiden now myriad in sorrow acting the role of the ungrateful bride. He is left to dream of her erst panting bosom when only winged ministers would understand his veneration.