The End

The twilight and thou I say to you...
and a beautiful lady comes, a tear must go.
This year my heart learned a valuable lesson.
As long as I never forget them...
I am never alone.

Mapplethorpe

Mapplethorpe the artist, Mapplethorpe the perverse.
I borrow your eyes, and place God's eyes in my pocket.
"Artistic Expression," my mouth replies.
I take out God's eyes, and my expression isn't artistic.
You have stitched morality and immorality together
and have drawn the face of a motherless child...
naked and bleeding from societies pressure.
An egg, when applying pressure, cracks.
As a fire... burning your "Artistic Expression."

Partial...

I awoke to the sound of someone calling my name. I quickly grabbed the lantern beside the mantel and began to make my way across the meadows. The sound was becoming more faint. I panicked, not wanting to loose the familier voice I toppled over and fell into a small ravine. Amazed at where I was now at... I looked up. The voice was now only a memory. As I reached for the lantern I thought of God. "Was it his voice?" ...and it came to me. A little lantern can do what the great sun could never do. Shine in the night.