Because I Love YouEverytime I see your name on my caller IDI smile and eagerly read your message.Why? Because I love to talk to you.Everytime we talk on the phone all nightI dont ever want to get off the line.Why? Because your voice soothes me.Everytime you have a small mental break downI feel like breaking down into tears.Why? Because you and I are one.Sometimes when a friend ask me to go overI tell them I dont feel like going.Why? Because I want to stay on the phone with you all night.And when I do go out to jam with the guysI am always thinking about being with you.Why? Because I miss being with you.Whenever they offer me a shot of BlacktoothI turn it down and opt for a Coke instead.Why? Because I know you dont like alcohol.If they offer me a cigerette because I seem stressedI decline and tell them Im just very tired.Why? Because I know you cant stand smoke.And everynight after our two hour conversationI kneel down beside my bed and thank God.Why? Because He gave me the greates
The Holy War BeginsUnder the pitch black night the warrior rides,His stallion as dark, as silent, as perfect as this night,This mission, this deed, this death.He arrives at the edge of the wood, dismounting his steed.The plan lay in his head, a sequence of eventsMost holy, that would set nations at each other.With vigor and care, he made his way across the moor,His cold, icy eyes locked on the fortress ahead.Utop the spire, leaning against the railing, stoodThe fair maiden Venissa, a catch for a lucky prince.Like a statue she stood, the gargoyle of the castle.A figure of authroity in her people's eyes;A target of opprotunity in the warrior's eyes.His steps quiet, the lion upon the buffalo,He stalks close to the castle, unseen in the mist along the grass.The Lady looks to the stars, wishing upon themA child, a fair girl, a casualty of war.At the base of the stone structure, the warrior kneels.A cross around his neck is gripped by leather gauntlet.Held by killer, blessed by God, object o
Shelter From the RainA shooting star above the rigorous surf,A sign of a humble god above thePower of the Devil's pitchfork.In that light, I see Her face; my solstice.Even as the ship pitches, rocks, creeks and lumbersAs Poseiden tries to grip our souls andSend my crew to Davie Jones' Locker,I look up to that star, and remember You.My shelter from the rain, my dearly beloved.When Your face appears in the waves,I feel nothing; not the fierce winds, the stinging blast,Not even the ferocity of the whitecaps.In the peace You bring me, I am safe.