a_poet_lives_within_my_soul monadh housed inside its wrought-iron cage quivering strings which feed on light and dark I call up to the sky send down my love bring back his gentle voice release my deeds from the storms of wrong and right let rain fall upon my open palms lend just a slight amount of kindness to a lass with no chance in this crazy hectic world we live being that all the saints have fled and taken with them their radiant orbs of incandescent light see how she rambles so with no rhyme nor reason a heart gone mad and a poet out of season 010310 ... gelfling your heart speaks well of your soul or vice versa rhyming or not I too indulge words with spirit and spill them out to others sometimes appreciative ones where are you writing from? 010310 ... monadh from whence do songs arise or springs on a mountain's side in a world of many misty mornings somewhere between land and time form and freedom 010310 ... mikey a demon lives within my soul. a poet guards the door and keeps it inside. often i want to kill the poet. 010311 ... beastmaster silly fucking mortal you know nothing of demons you'd cry if you saw a real one it would shatter your happy world to pieces silly mikey girl 010311 ... silentbob i feed it pizza to keep it coming. The poems get anxious and i have to feed them with depression. 010311 ... mikey im not a girl. but im also not sure if you meant me. and you dont know the depths of my soul. therefore you dont know how i would react if i saw a demon. how do you know i havent already? 010311 ... just i have.. 030504 what's it to you? who go blather from