Assisting A find

Adoring what?

A question for whom?

No calls, never answer,

a voice not heard.

You will miss, not.

A heart beat: No sound.

A rhythm not felt.

Walking into a set-up?

Forward facing recommended.

Life, Death, Existence?

Which one frowns upon a self-made being?

Reading Mans words fills the voids.

Writing ones thoughts, is it a sin?

Dependent upon the stimuli?

Everyday a vixen.

Abhor?

No better... No worse.

The ready pace,

neck in neck,

down to the wire we go.

It's by a nose.

A winner?

I loose.... once again

I do not fraught at such a task,

better lucky than good any day!

To not win.

I ponder nothing in this turn,

a rival is gained.

A site upon what could change.

Look upon my Sunrise, not my Sunset.

You are a Founding Sire.

A friend found, a target sought,

no loss in a photo finish.

I gain the sight of so much more

by proposing a HALT, not charge.

An Equine term to salivate

for a clever is a bit.

My poll is soft, I foam.

Could the stance of a rider be such?

To mount a horse astride myself,

not for the faint of heart.

For that is not a Lady's call;
Side Saddle is what I do recall.

Sexual thought bounds this tact,

the bending of the novel approach.

I dare not!

Please, re-coach!!

The stars I see in wonder-dust

 I plea to the dream of never.

I enter the room: Ride me.

Kindly I listen to hear.

I Implore for more?
A term to serve,
a prospective job to look forward too.
I yearn for tomorrow and yet I am still in this day.

The Mire Of The Lonely One

The isolation of one's needs

requires little when alone.

There in lies the death of so,

inquiry's were few.

Solitude doth desire,

no person to be told.

Where does this person now exist,

if All were in the "Know."

The Arch of such demonic toll,

'rounds the World today.

The slavery of many warn;

"do not go this way."

Not One will listen,

but, Two will go,

drug out in Chains and broken links:

To past mistakes; don't blink!!!

The changes to the clock presents

your guilt to know such guise.

Do snuffs exist? Or do you lie?

Each time you print your list.

A count of three,

it takes from thee,

leaving you............. thrice?

A cycle of: Entice.

If you do, then I'll be "knew."

The dollars will be nice.

To think upon what will be lost,

is simply; "Roll the dice"

A win declared for most is paired

with what happens to the solo, torn.

Who will care? The devious impaired!

By nothing that's not a vice.

Trapping what will cry so loud

be heard, exampling too.

Not for Me, I did get through

the screaming and the reap.

The tripping of my simple mind,

blew away and loosened the bind

upon my being of Truth.

For sake of the hidden booth.

A Title To Pain

As I sink into this divide,

the darkness of the pitch on this night's display.

The mystery of what may seem sleek:

to shun the difference between.

Left & Right

is to know death from life.

Cover your eyes before you see,

the discomfort of my soul.

It aches while not at home

in another lies the store.

Clinging not to what may be,

I cannot even tell.

What for?

The win of the Immortal!

Fighting what is not ever known.

The pain within each one,

personal and held discreetly,

I plead!!

Know the distance of your cry.

It screams the delight of only time,

ticking across this Riddler's path,

I'll never need:  I'm blind.

Scorching heat has passed along

the smear of the Midnight Hour.

As in long ago, the ghosts of low declare:

Creeping steadily in, so slow, I tow.

The deepening of the blue sea

likens itself to me.

Kindly, I respect its wonder,

illusion and the grandeur.

To ripen in the years it takes

to comfort an Old Soul.

He glances upon the she.

Bringing title's to all of Thee.