Souls Eye, Eyes of the Heart.

Isit our own forbidden story.


From the moment I saw him, I understood the feeling.. the knowing. The same feel never changed. I pondered on it, never forgot it. Words can’t even explain, I guess my hallucination made me imagine so much, took me into a different part of myself, some parts I had already explored. 9 years is a long time to not forget someone, to somehow disappear in the mist and then be reminded of the one person whom you felt the most without words, although there was so much I wanted to say and did yet still the words weren’t real enough.. I knew saying nothing at the same time was also a way of just allowing myself to just feel or maybe not. Whenever I spoke to him, or was around him I felt that high sometimes making me silent or other times making me want to talk so much. Though I never got so many chances with him, I understood what I felt more than words. The Souls eyes awakened long ago, seeing him in school made me recognize another, just like me. I could write for days but for some reason I’ve given up expressing this, maybe because deep down it hurts but yet its healed.. maybe because I somehow feel that it will never be the same, although its never meant to be is it. Things change. People change.. thats the sad thing about life. The world gets the best of us, swallows us into it’s maze into its hole. I’ve never cared for someone as much as I did he. For me its like the souls eyes knows it doesn’t need to be close, even though it sometimes desires his closeness. I even feel deep down it’s best I let go, the one thing I know is that sometimes that which is so strong can consume and take you away from everything – I don’t want to even think about it.. I shouldn’t. It’s that which is not recognized nor seen but we see.. the unseen in us allows us to see.. to swallow up everything and feel every part smother you and yet never let go.. to dissolve – completely. There will never be another soul who can move me like he did, but there is bound to be others who can relate. Being naked will never be enough, to enter me and me into him is just the beauty of the magnificant essence alive and existing. There is more, it doesn’t matter that it took all of me, there is more – we go beyond what we know, way more. Its not as if he has that hold on me, no man can hold the Christ in a being. They can believe they can by speaking it into existence but we unravel existence.. us unseeners. . where do we come from some ask.. only The Creator knows. Heaven and Earth will pass away but my word will remain.. spoken directly from the Christ. Son of Man, Son of God. My souls eyes I love him, he probably won’t understand that love. I don’t expect him too, I really don’t. Nothing can buy it, the fact it took me too my own madness whether he was the foe or genuine, who knows but I believed it – always did from when I was younger.. I don’t want to say no more. I have to let go.. otherwise i’ll be ripped apart even more.


The eyes of the heart was secretive, need I say more? It beated with my own – what did he.. the heart want to prove, that it was just like me? Stepping out to view one – I see you, 3 times in fact. Wondered if you saw into me, if you felt me. . if you did then what did you think. Was this your game too, nosey much?

*smiles* I wonder if you’ve been ripped apart, if so you must of enjoyed the show. Front row seats, maybe? Who knows. Your secretive, silent in your movements.. doing more than what is actually seen. Speak the truth from the heart. It’s deep, we are all deep. Some more than others. It’s not that simple, but it is – should I scream at you? Should I smile or look away quickly? Its not even me is it, the fight, the pull and tug – unrecognized.. It’s hidden comfort. In the warmth of it’s own being – you play hard to get heart, you know it. You just can’t be captured, you were always captured and you always dug and dug and dug and never stopped. You asked and asked and never stopped. Present, held and so it was never outside of yourself – It promised you it would hold you and you believed it.. eyes of my heart – you never lied. I went to that dimension of the heart, the holder of my heart held my hand and I looked behind at the world waving.. being guided through the unknown. Little me. So why did you beat with me? To find out my secrets and what would you do then?

You are just as special, the softness is something delicate.

A roar, I see you.







A Soldier

I’m caught away with something, whatever that something is.

I’ve felt all I could. . . is feeling ever enough.

The mind doesn’t want to battle anymore.

I’m holding strong, I don’t want to be weak. . . I don’t want to fall. I’m staring out of no where but what this place I imagined to be is not exactly a fantasy land. It was never a fantasy, not to me.. but now I’ve been gone with the wind – taken away from everything I knew.. and left not splattered but courageously standing.. I remember. .

Who knew that eyes could make me lose my focus,

a moments heart beat could day-dream my whole sanity. .

A deep stare in slow motion could tickle my inner stomach…

A small talk could excite my being once again.

It’s a hold, no letting go.

A heavy breath, one breath, one pant.. ai..

I won’t run then would I – would be so entangled inside the inside with this natural mystic. . maybe it’s the both of us.

It was never a war, it was reality. Every part of it, every pain, every inner scream of passion, every tear, every word spoken as I walked up and down my bedroom panting. Spiritual cries.. a soul yearning.. I shouted at myself, talked myself out of it all.. Oh the things I did for this feeling.

Everytime I came out the bath and stared at me, naked.. I said nothing. .Just stared. . . no feeling but the space of this invisible person.. this man I never knew.. as the water dried I would silently smile inside. Hugging myself saying it will all be over..

He just don’t know how strong it is..

How weak it can be..

How it can let go. . .

How it can play freely and still not let go of the hold.

Just for he. .

A soldier.

I whisper to myself once again..

“Please young Lady, don’t run. . don’t run. . Be Free”




What am I meant to feel?

How am I meant to continue.

Did I wake up from a dream. . .was this a game on me?

What am I meant to feel, or am I not meant to feel?

Should I just stare, stay quiet and look away as always..

What now…

Somehow it was all triggered, somehow it was all a blur.. I was alive, I saw everything.

This was no fantasy, it was real. I didn’t imagine it. My Spirit..

Yes, my Spirit felt it all and my soul – it was moved..swayed in slow motion yet still capturing the fast movements of my mind.. I was there, like i’ve always been.

My heart’s energy was bleeding and my mind out of control.

Did I drive me there?

All I know is that the love of my life, Christ held me.

Though my heart bled excessively, though I hallucinated and functioned in the blur . . .yet still I saw, experienced and felt. . physically and spiritually.

Holy Spirit never left me, he kept me.. Holy Spirit please don’t ever leave me. . . please xxx


Our Love is


Our hearts reflect the deepest parts hidden, immeasurable.

Only we have seen, only both our souls level-stand.

It’s passing by, it’s moving on. . . it’s all being erased.

Yet still neither time nor space makes us inseperable.



His hands pulled her in close, and he muttered words sincere into her ears. His breath circulating down her neck, swimming into the pools of her spine, melting into the pores of her delicate skin.

His hands held her hand gently, knowing the touch of her love could destroy his sanctuary –  he couldn’t hold her any longer. . She was weakening his heart the more she blocked his arms from touching her, the more she looked away the weaker he became. She showed no affection towards him, her eyes blankly looked into his, as his own spoke words that he did not understand. She tried to pull away from his gripped hands, but he wouldn’t let go.

He wrapped his arms around her, but her body was lifeless in his.. he kissed her neck and his own heart beated, but he never felt hers. . he always felt hers but why didn’t it no longer beat for him?

He looked at her, “Baby” he said ..

She looked away. He kissed her lips, and how sweet they felt, her small heart shaped lips hugged his but without hope. . they stood perplex in between his own. His soul vibrated strongly in his body, his heart realizing this was ending.. she was letting go, she was killing their connection. . she was destroying what she had come to know in the expense of her own freedom. ‘Did she love me this much, to grow this cold’ he wondered.

Deep down she wanted one last hold, one last warmth of his tender touch, his smile on her cheeks and his hands tickling her neck – her arms wrapped around his tummy. She wanted to jump at him and for him to catch her, to lay with her and stare into space. To laugh the whole night and share a sweet kiss. To share a dance in the living room, to ponder into eachother eyes and grin. To be silent with no words and listen to the atomsphere. She didn’t want anything fancy. . all she ever wanted was just him. . . his naked soul. That was too much to ask for because it wasn’t the simple story she expected. She was always scared, and so was he.

This feeling of fighting for something she never understood pushed her away from his hold even though it was the last thing she desired before walking away.

He knew.

He knew and felt it slip away.

He knew it would someday just disappear, it was too good to be true, it was just too good to be true.

He played with her fingers and walked more closely into her, until there faces were touching, he twirled her around – sat down on the sofa and pulled her onto his lap. She tried to budge, but he held her little waist.

“I know you love me, I know you love me” he whispered.

She continued on the urge to push away but he touched her tummy and she stopped budging. He closed his eyes and held her tummy, her heart began to beat with his but she quickly stood and ran towards the living room door. He managed to get to the door before her, and stood there staring into her. . He was softened by their wars of love that he had to keeping fighting.

She forced her way to the door handle, but he put his hands on the door. Tears rolling down her eyes, she said nothing.

His heart couldn’t bear to see her cry, but he had too.

His soul yearned to hold her, to cradle her and give her every part of his but she wouldn’t let him. She was pulling away. She was creating an empty space between them and he understood this was it – it was coming to an end. She was estranged. She was running away for good, and she was never going to come back again.

He didn’t want to let her go, he knew it would only destroy the part he had left to give. He needed to give it, but it felt too late.

“I love you” he said, “I love you more than words, and I don’t want to say this, but I have too.. your always in my heart and always on my mind. I may have done things to hurt you but I’ve done my best to make things right in me. I know you enough to know you love me beyond words too”. He looked down. She knew this was true.

“I love you enough, but enough has an end”

He stood there saddened, he didn’t want to plead and look like a fool, he had to just show her that she loved him.. he had to make her understand how much she really did care. His eyes were bloodshot and he shouted, he shouted aloud and ran towards the sitting room. He took the vase and smashed it, he begun to rip the curtains tearing them completely. He walked into the kitchen and took the neatly placed plates and smashed them one by one. She ran by the kitchen door and watched him yelling, fury in his face, trickles of tears ran down her eyes, she began to gasp – taking deep breaths. Her heart tugged her to walk towards him and her mind told her run, leave him. She listened to her heart and she ran towards him.

“Stop, pleaseeee…stop” Her eyes met his and her hands touched the next plate he was soon to smash. He looked back at her his fury beginning to calm down – she took the plate from his hands and they both sat down on the kitchen floor and she hugged him. They both cried, their spirits merging.. he held her so tightly, he kissed her cheeks.. he pulled her face to him and they intimately gazed into eachother, the atomsphere in their breath alone. He couldn’t breath, she was lost for air, he closed his eyes and pulled in close to kiss and in that moment..



She disappeared. She was gone. He opened his eyes feeling an emptiness come over him. He looked around.

“Babyyyyy” he shouted, he stood up the kitchen wasn’t a mess the plates were neatly stacked onto shelves, he went into the living room – the curtains were perfectly hanging loose – the vase was on the pure white marble table.

He held his head. Her spirit was estranged. She was gone – and there was no coming back. In whatever way he called, he knew she had moved on, she was just his imagination.. an old love lost.

She walked away, and left him with the memory of her Spirit.







Young Lovers.

It’s gotten old now.

The curtains are purple and the rips cruise on the outlines of the material, expensive silk,

drifting through the home, the rust of the atomsphere sings in the air.

The old wooden tables pushed back against the windows

O’ they look rather lonely, the chairs crying to be seated on.

Where’s the owners?

They’ve deserted the house they built.

Young lovers who at first were attracted to the dance of their quiet souls.

Young lovers’ who were calling eachother from afar, O’ why leave a home a deserted place like so?

Where are you young lovers?

The garden is calling for your sweet flowers to blossom, and the smiles of sweet babies to roll along in the beautiful nature.

Young lovers, why are you hiding?

Its not rotting just yet but if you desert it for much longer will not the bricks become tired and fall in?

Will not the stairs creak and scatter step by step?

How about the taps, will the pipes not burst and no water will be left running through?

Young lovers come back.

The House is calling you, it needs you.

Young lovers come back, you need you.

Young lovers enter into your home.

Young lovers don’t leave the home, alone.





What does it mean?

Seemingly being all that you were and are already.

Distinction of the finest efforts applyed by domestic care, you are the outcome.

Sobriety in a dis-illusioned setting, mystic at it’s core but the enemy somehow lurks to falsify the effect. A saviour much, as so it may appear to be, don’t be fooled. Sinners we are, turnt to heros in the darkest hours.

An answer for much, a sight of some.. a word spoken an explanation heard, ways to help… words of hope, cry on me. The time to solve an issue beyond you. Tired, but continually resulting to one.

Who can you run too, in order to understand – I guess we face our trials in the mist of others and yes – this is healing as well as putting our part in the past. Shimmering away to the comfort of our being. I saw me in them. I saw me in them, it somehow was a play, one I understood – one I saw beckoning in the mist of us. The heart understood, would it come back?

    It did, slowly.. the gesture was always the niceness.. the mother correcting and encouraging. Problems anyone?

Run to her. No problems well, she is no longer remembered.

It is a cycle, viewed as understanding to oneself and offering to life and it’s form. Learn to live through it all, leave behind the things that replay. I see you, you see me. Full stop.

 I’m cosy here, away – mesmerised by the planets decay and yet by it’s cure in the womb. Why fathom that which shall not be understood but continually is within a cycle.

Mono-tone, with a smile of acceptance.

There is no pity is there? A raised eyebrow maybe…

Quite frankly a dismissal of a stare. Look away.

This is no beating heart, or drooling love, or the poise of residing in a make believe society.

Common words are told: Solitude invites many, but you drive them away by one’s own fortitude.

This is noteworthy:

Establish an inner arc preserved for the witness, melancholy may try to war the arc – harshness – the battles of the sinful nudes of the calamity of the world – but the arc is a solid construction. . built not by solid hands but by the Divine melody of life.

 Swiftly riding on… quietly… in the song.



Countless – Amid?

Somehow we are ascending.

Somehow we are possessing more than silver and gold.

How some have eliminated the vision of true perception in the gratifiction of the lures and deception of humanity.

Loves lost? Of course not but it’s ever growing motion is some-what a distinct divergent, an alliance to intrinsic value – a virtue amiss to men but unto an accountable man it is his freedom. We are not in a cycle of systematic law, but a cycle of living truth.

Can you untie my shoe laces without hands, can you shave my hair with a comb. . .is it possible to instill power or isit merely residing in the dormant hands of fear waiting to be released? Do you understand the reality of all three – which is all possible, and truly a matter of ways in a way.

A standard you use for another is the standard used for you.

The unfairness projected is hidden and you hold the clues, amid the imaginations of men some delerious and others emancipated by glee – you are mono-tone to discover the clue which happens in the twirl of the mind, or possibly the heart – the floating of the soul – or maybe the stillness of Spirit..Twirl?

The 360 twirls delights in one’s discovery of resolution of the ultimate surface of reality and then digging into its literal deposits in the soul.

I delight in the proportionate chemistry that is shared between God (The Creator of the heavenly of heavenlies) – and  of his creation in the earthly mother of mankind and yet still the earthly mother is a child of the human race.

The lucid contrast of all and yet subtle simularity is a sweet and undeniable mystery and never-ending in fact.

Countless we are – amid the blur of a clear monumental existence.

Countless Amid – Counting forever – Surrounded by forever.










The Heart of a Man

We witness. We see ourselves and the world. The world either being in us or us in the world. Is it a strange fact that,

“The heart is decietful, above all things” Jeremiah 17:9

I wonder why we base alot of our life perceptions from this place, from this weary and tired rock where emotions pass through and the electricity of our minds dim the enlightenment of the heart. As humans we long for freedom, and freedom is what we have.. the cages we are in are the perception of the reality given to us but not the reality within reality – which truly goes un-noticed. The small things.

Can a man truly ascend past the limitations of his own wants, desires and fulfilments – can he give up everything he knows and has just to go on a quest for truth?

The hidden abilities of the potential of one’s own soul is a ultimatum – a destiny of his own pact with the greatest force of Life.

Didn’t John say “Greater is he that is in you than he who is in the world” 1 John 4:4

Have we not established that the very heart of a man is an abomination to the true abstract view of society and life?

“Do not judge and you will not be Judged, do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; forgive and you will be forgiven” Luke 6:37

Where can a man go to clear the hidden dirt of the heart, the trickery of its secrets. . .what would it profit him to gain the world and lose his soul at the price of the eyes of his heart being blind.

Are you the choice or is the choice you.

Are you the judge or are you already judged.

Can you truly see, or is your sight an instruction of systematic laws and common known behaviours of a rebel living a lawless life.

We are carved on the cross with Christ, being either one of the thieves on the right hand or left hand of Christ.

One although nearly dying professed his faith to desire more life.. he could see beyond pain, death and the limits of his own body, he saw himself and he saw his unworthiness and realized the power of life to empower him again. Therefore he asked Christ to remember him, and he was promised eternal life in paradise.

Yet the other drowned in his own loathsomeness of his actions, he condemned life and told its power within Christ to save itself. He did not percieve life and could not understand it, because of this his mockery of it showed he was already judged.

Which one are you?


As.. was, and still is we are all aware

She’s A Cedar-wood

She’s that cedar-wood that you will rarely find. . Oh spicey, icy..

Her eyes be so divine.

Chocolate skin beauty – all her leaves so nutrient and fruity…

Will you touch her tree. . .

it’s – a comfort breeze. . .

The mountains of Lebanon are shaded by her. . .her roots are

digging in the waters – tapping on to earth . . .protector

of lovers, eccentric undercover… A warrior inside of her – as she electrifies the universe.

She’s that Cedar-wood that you will rarely find..

Oh spicey, Icy.. her eyes be so divine..

Majesty is her presence..

Strength is her essence..

Firm.. is her knowing – they wanna copy her – Too bad –

She’s blurred.

They try and cut her down…

God called them all beserk.

They tried to burn her down, then nature heard – The Spirits of Light came and warred – Yes, they govern her core.

Cedars are the purifiers resistent to rot, their beings are the living fire… babies in their cot.

They are called to ignite – cleansing, healing, praying in providence..

The dreams and The visions are all her covenant.

        She’s that Cedarwood – that you will rarely find…

Oh Spicy, Icy – her eyes be so divine.