Love That Touches Me

That she hast my heart chiefly, and my sorrow. That she hast not all is my grief, ‘til morrow comes.

Loving offenders; a loss in love that touches me more.

Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her.

Thou dost love her, because thou knowst she love you.

Loving zenith my heart ; though pang of her absences.

That I hast weaken from loss of my love’s affections.

That I hast strengthen from thou to hold my love twain.

If I lose thee, my loss is my love’s gain, so bury me.

And both for my sake lay on me this cross, O’ Lord.

But here’s the joy O' Lord; She and I become one.

Flattery Sweet flattery! Then she loves but me alone.

Perhaps Love

Perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm. It exists to give you comfort, it is there to keep you warm. And in those times of trouble, when you are most alone. The memory of love will bring you home.

Perhaps love is like a window, perhaps an open door. It invites you to come closer, it wants to show you more. And even if you lose yourself and don't know what to do. The memory of love will see you through.

Oh love to some is like a cloud, to some as strong as steel. For some a way of living, for some a way to feel. And some say love is holding on and some say letting go. And some say love is everything, some say they don't know.

Perhaps love is like the ocean, full of conflict, full of pain. Like a fire when it's cold outside, thunder when it rains. If I should live forever, and all my dreams come true.

My memories of love will be of you.

-- John Denver

Simply put,

You-you are a night time Rain, You are the Touch upon my hearts void and You are neccessary.
What an Honour which to Win your Thank You.

Your mention is twofold the only one I am hearing. i am Happy to know You; it is good to finally have You back.

Whispers, I have missed you so-that I am burden with Love feelings that overwhelm my sight.

Memories of Once Lady MacBeth

To bed, to bed Thou will not go; It Is the Dark of a mid-night heart That keeps this creature sustaind’d. The grim of thine eye, the grimmest of Leer. Watching, searching for open wounds, As the Bait is consumed. Within chambered bulkheads conjures The hate bestrode on Victims brought by siren. In her gown, In her bed, From where she unlocks Distain; writes her notes, forth Speaks like poison in Thou ear.

Listen and beware, you can hear The thoughts of this bewitched:

Witches'mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,

Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,

Liver of blaspheming Jew, Gall of goat, and slips of yew

Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse, Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,

Finger of birth-strangled babe Ditch-delivered by a drab,

Make the gruel thick and slab: Add thereto a Tiger's chaudron,

For the ingredients of our cauldron.

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Cauldron of squallier, and cauldron Spent, a witch that Fouls the air with These words she notes. Blood runs black within and without of those hands whose Quill be more like Foil and Dagger. And All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten those little hands.

Heat Oppressed Thoughts

Concussions echo thoughts that crash inside the walls of my mind, leaving me with only a ringing I am unable to wish away. The earth quivers and the walls of my world shatter and are crumbling nearer to me.

I wait for death and yet he only waits; tormenting me. My soul contemplates deserting, I knowing my fate will be swift when he goes. The state of which I’m in could be a blessing not having to live at death’s door. I’ve given up that God will come for me, or perhaps is it that God waits for me too. How could I die with any dignity left if I am to pound on deaths door begging “Take Me! What Are You Waiting For? Take Me!”

Even now the quiet of mid day, the silence, it drives my nerves reckless. It’s the waiting you see. Waiting for the toll, I cannot afford to pay this price just to die with dignity, and yet my beliefs have been so strong to take my life only to lose my soul and honour. When will death come, then wait for me to beg again.

I didn’t have to wait long by any standard, but the eternity tore at my soul. Once again the earth moves, and my patience dies before me. Lost for a moment, I find myself panning over all the decisions I’ve made and wonder which decision was the wrong decision that inevitably brought me here to this point. The preponderance of the quakes has convinced my flesh to crawl from my bones, and in hope alone to escape the torment.

OH GOD HELP ME!

What is that, what do I hear, what is this that I hear now! What are you doing to me now! The distant roar that turns to rumbling, the silence that is over taking my mind. The clouds and dust dissipate and light comes. My sight is returning to me. Has God heard my frantic prayer, has he taken me, did I finally expel any dignity I grasped for?

I am unable to move. What if it is only a trick of my mind? I will not leave this place until I am sure. There is nothing that can convince me that I am not dead. I do not want to look to see.

I cannot be left alone with the silence in my mind, take me with you!

Laid Waste

Time, the moon is down; I hear the clock pounding in my chest.
Objective, heavily I am summoned to the place I was once before.
Morale, never have I acted upon my own accord; and this I must.
Oppressed, breathing is laden; mind a raged, within my thoughts.
Reverence, this is not the time for mercy unto mine enemies.
Revenge, as they have done, do unto them, with great prejudice.
Oath, this my will to make whole once again, let them die traitors.
Will, for my enemies after this day there will be no turning back.

This doom they are not aware; and yet they brought upon themselves.
May God have mercy on my soul for the men I have killed; and for the men I am going to kill.

Act I Scene III

LORD POLONIUS

Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! And these few precepts in thy memory see thou character.

Give thy thoughts no tongue, nor any unproportioned thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; but do not dull thy palm with entertainment of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade.

Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, but not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; for the apparel oft proclaims the man, and they in France of the best rank and station are of a most select and generous chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine ownself be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.

Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!