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Along the Wayward Path By Annalise Grey

Copyright 2012 Annalise Grey Online Edition Cover image GMutlu Online Edition, License Notes Thank you for downloading this book. The material contained within this book is copyrighted property of the author and may not be copied, reproduced, or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. Thank you for your support.

Along the wayward path Long have I travelled

along the wayward path. Ankle-twist

and down I fall again.

Mud-streaked arms and feet snapping branches as I go. Sharp scent of decaying leaves beneath me

and within.

Once my heart loved enough to care

for my Self and Pride. No more,

for I released the selfsame heart into wilderness

losing so much more in the process

than simply my way. * Slowly I forge in time a beating heart

and make it shine. Silver tears I cry

for my past and crime.

I sever my soul to keep it mine. * His ten tiny fingers grasp my one Earth's own

hand grown

Maiden no more now Mother! I am teacher,

singer of lullabies to soft eyes

and holder of futures

in two trembling arms * Soliloquy of the Lost Soul To go or not to go

this dilemma weighs heavy.

For whether it would be better to love, lose and remember than to never love and forever wonder, I am not yet sure.

Shall I go with him giving my heart

or languish alone, grieving for my soul's lost desire? He is my shelter, my peace.

He gave me gift of laughter and a sense of myself.

Without him I am lost.

But would I not be more lost if I were to lose my heart to the trickeries of an uncaring Fate? Yet his eyes are kind and trusting. Making me believe true love endures.

Through time and despair this one constant stands.

Yet time persists in wearing away dreams and soon will my heart be gambled for and lost.

My mind is to be my one true guide, unfailing, ever faithful.

Still my heart screams the joys of bountiful love.

Oh Heaven help me if ever you did care for this stricken soul! Oh Heaven help me if ever you did not! * Those eyes belie

sincerity of voice Noxious tongue

which speaks volumes on deceit till dry,

barren from wanting but not getting

So he tries drinking me in

like wine to quench his heavy need Heat

I am left in need of a shield to protect me and a shower

if the shield fails * Wanna see destruction? Wanna see me fly?

Take this heart from its empty cave twisting it tight.

Make it yours

and I'll become a shadow loving you until I shatter

under the weight of your kindness. * She, as a house and I

a tree

From her he runs to my wild arms, firm branches unbreaking

Wind in my leaves

In the earth, my roots take rest Golden pleasantry of days in bloom

She has forgotten her tree birth

choosing life as a house Yet he always returns secure in those same four walls

quiet comfort for chilly days protected in her

while I stand sentinel apart *

Surrender to the Fire

of Love's saving Grace and fill your heart with Desire

and Love's immortal Face. * I'd steal eternity for that dream in time when I'd melt into azure

The weight of a thousand hearts

forgives what breaks me from the soul I crave With memories of that desperate heat my ghost still lingers where he sleeps

and these haunted moments of clarity are making me brave

He knows he felt like home to me as he'd brush away my fears

The screaming center of his need carried once the promise of peace, beautiful as the wings he gave me * Germany My once

bruised and battered heart is fine now

I martyr my doubt to the wind

while the languid sounds of voices and words I can't understand float past me

as I lay myself out

along the banks of the Neckar

* My castle burns beneath a velvet sky For you I'll build another while you laugh so soft

and teach me of honesty

which lies in working emerald pastures In these summer days of golden light you make it easy just to be

Now what have they to say

when none is left to conquer? For the Queen entrusts her body and soul

to the keeping of a farmer's son Though destruction bears its weight in full

it matters none to me as you lie aside Fingers laced

mine in thine

* Winifred's waters can't wash away the stain across my heart Purging myself of all till empty

I am temporarily freed from these leaden chains of blood

and fear

If I spoke of uncertainty,

doubting my own strength

would you look upon me the same way, knowing the inner divestment is more cleansing than...


Or would your own heart ache to know

that he would have loved me had I been... more?

This is the seed, my own design, sown in my psyche to give me control over

something *

As he stands a breath away and takes me here tonight

my raging storm inside grows silent and all the world is right * Nuestras raices toman la Tierra bailando al ritmo de Ella

sin olvidar la fuerza y belleza

del sangre comun

* I take it here bound by

taunting looks given my frame. The mirror sneers

while stone-cold insults dig shallow graves

for Hope and Wellbeing inside my breast.

I have no more reason

to doubt their truthfulness than I do

my own sanity. Yet

I grieve

For my Beloveds,

Kindness and Charity, too have gone by way of Hope and Wellbeing until

my skinny chest is a scarred, never budding field for mourning. * My Hatred flies with Butterfly Wings This night of mine is long and cold and I am afraid

Giving all I never had is wearing me away

I have a hole inside my heart It slowly fills with rage as I see a lovely face

its emptiness portrayed

I feel the heat of my lies

as I yearn for something more

pleading voices in my head say “I just want to be pure� * I do not belong here

among grating brick walls

and soulless streets

My eyes reflect the stars

shimmering in obsidian night and the scent of the forest is heavy on my skin * Almost

I said, but not quite

Had trouble finding the tongue inside my teeth the strength of will to move my lips to take a breath and speak Almost

You passed, but not quite

To my left, down the street and out of sight

The engine drowning out any hope of sound My voice

should have said “I miss you�

Almost, but not quite * Mrs. P's skeletons lay as crumpled laundry in a closet tucked away

Her husband knows, of course, but ignores Politely covering

the door with a delicate couch

Flowery pillows, soft chenille throw

to challenge the horror of her skeletons piled high and dirty

like stale sheets in desperate need of cleaning Aired out

Refreshed and saved

from their oily rancor of skins and fists

against one another Epic battle of wills

played out upon her

And so each day they sit watching TV near where her skeletons lay

pretending as if the scraping of bone against bone is nothing more

than imagination * I open my eyes but he is gone Vanished

from this too large yet still warm bed

Oh sing to me again with spontaneity leave baubles

and perfumed shirts

for me to squeeze into

on long and foggy nights

with comforting remembrance to last me through unused space

and reoccurring dreams * To have and to hold not possible I am tall



raven-haired beauty to all

but one He

who brings me

consecrated seeds

and choking gold rings a kiss

to keep me close until

my own company I must keep for I am

no longer needed not loved no


burned for

so I sit

pen in hand

and scribble away

about all that is left undone between us

un-cried for and

unsaid * Yellow resounds

in loving comfort

for a moment when addictions cost you nothing but sleep and me

all I have inside * I have a song stuck in my throat

my nightingale once sang it to me now I sing to her

She called two nights ago

again inquiring if I'm alright

“Yeah of course. Never better.� She knows the truth so I sing to her Her comfort

'cause I'm so far away

and she sounds so close

across the wires then she cries

and I wish my song were Silence *

Look not to the window my love For morning arrives soon

Allow us a moment’s pause

To gather one another in arms

Till streaking sunlight bids us part * You ask me why the jewels have fallen from my eyes A light for dark passages no more

Once you spoke honest words to me

Of why there is weakness in organized religion Yet strength in AA meetings

You tell me my thoughts are my own so you won't pry I wonder why you even bother


About me:

Pennsylvania native, dreamer, explorer.

I write because I like talking to the voices in my head. They are (usually) good company. I love to travel (when I have the $ for it). My family is everything to me.

Follow me on Facebook & Youtube - Annalise Grey Also by Annalise Grey: Howl

Nineteen year old Sophie Matthews is a line-walker between two worlds human and werewolf. She lives around humans but is never truly part of

their world. That is, until she is spotted by a hiker. What should have been a passing glance becomes so much more as Sophie falls for the one thing she is forbidden from ever having: a human mate. Coming soon: Gettysburg After Dark

Ever wonder what really happens to the ghost tour guides who walk the

dark streets of Gettysburg every night? Find out in Gettysburg After Dark.

Along the Wayward Path  

Two collections of poetry in one - Ramblings of a Tired Mind & Along the Wayward Path.

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