Cutting and the Soul

The press of the steel,
To see if I still feel,
The twisting of the wires,
With these bloody pliers,
Entwining the barbs with flesh,
Forming a steely bleeding mesh,
Hooks pull upon the skin,
Pulling up into bleeding crests as a fin,
Black blood congealing around the lips,
As the swallowed razor slips,
Deep into the soul,
Spilling blood black as coal.
Slow flows drip from the shivs,
Forced into self to relive,
In body the pains of mind,
To reveal to eyes blind,
What is hidden inside,
That as this blades slide,
Again and again,
Into this flesh of men,
Leaving faint lines,
First crimson like wines,
Later white and stark,
A permanent mark,
But these wounds are not, really,
On my flesh and body, to see,
But inside my being,
In the mind and feeling,
These hooks are but the bait,
Strung out by the twister of fate,
To mock us who would achieve,
Anything, or would dare to believe,
The razor is inside "the prize",
A nasty death dealing surprise,
The barbed wire entwining,
Is our self wrought woes and repining,
And all simply because we do not receive,
The one thing in which we might truly believe.

Español Amor.

Tu cabello es como un beso eloquente,
Y tu ojos es como un estrella de los cielos.
Tus labios son suave como miel,
Y tu piel es suave como seda.
Te amo mi amor,
Con todo mi ser,
Especiamente con todo mi corazon.
Tu eres mi princesa sin igual,
Mi Niña hermosa,
Mi amor bonita.
Tu eres la hija de Dios,
Y tu eres muy perfecta para mi.
Tu eres mas bella,
Que todas las chicas en del mundo.
Tu eres como un chocolate claro,
Pero tu eres mas dulce que eso.

With a little correction on spelling and grammar from mi amor post writing.

Tolkien's of Love.

"This all things devours,
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers,
Gnaws Iron, bites steel,"
But that is the old deal,
Times change,
And changes estrange,
One from their old ways,
And their past days,
And I am no longer among men,
Like this riddle of Tolkien,
I love and am loved,
And I adore my beloved,
She has warmed me,
And taught my heart to be,
Kinder and softer,
Gentler and oftener,
A better, wiser, stronger man,
Who is able to, who can,
Choose to do the best,
Not just the 'right' as the rest,
But more so than this,
She has taught me to never be remiss,
In the ways I ought to go,
She has set my life aglow,
Thank you King,
For giving me this thing,
That poets call love,
A precious gift from above,
For her I would,
In all that I could,
"Slay kings, ruin town,
Beat high mountains down,'
Not because I am time,
Or because I relish in crime,
Or in destruction or violence,
That all is far from me hence,
But to provide and protect,
Her, God's daughter select!
Mi Princesa sin igual,
In character and beauty without equal.


Forgive the pun.... I was quoting one of Tolkien's Riddles here.