The endless battle of

fact with fiction

and fiction with fact,

we lose ourselves in this

never-ending contract

to just be.

We lose all meaning

and spend our lives dreaming

never really thinking,

just simply existing.

I feel like we are missing the point,

the equation,

the revelation,

that will tie us all

together.

Forever missing

the bigger picture.

I remember what they took from me,

the thief.

I remember they took my love, my soul,

my belief.

I remember before they came,

I remember your smile, your face, your name.

I remember the way you loved flowers,

I remember you could sit and paint them for hours.

I remember after they came,

I remember the life that left you, the shell that remained.

I remember your empty eyes, your cold glass eyes.

I remember the demon, my love, and it’s terrible lies.

The Wolf knows no evil,

does not kill because they know the devil.

It kills to feed, to nourish, to save.

The Wolf is wild, is pure, is brave.

The Man knows no good,

kills because they feel they should.

It kills to destroy, to prove, to gain.

The Man is broken, is ruined, is insane.

- EMJ

I often wonder,

about the sound of a falling tree.

The sound; like thunder,

after the creaking screech.

It knows, the tree, it knows.

That after life there is death,

for that is how nature goes:

there will be a final breath.

Do the other trees hear it?

Their fallen friend’s demise.

Oh, how they must dread it,

to hear the sickening cries.

The trees do not fear the end,

for they live on,

in the soul of a friend.

This way, the life, the tree, it goes on.

And on.

- EMJ