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| Burn Loving purple flame calm my rage, anxiety plagues me. Decipher the truth in two words chosen from a traditional health program. Words exist only to deny the soothing flame al the extreme existence it is capable of. Kiss the loving, soothing, caring, burning, dangerous flame, but don't get to close or it will choose to deny your fate with its infernal flame. Think of the flame, imagine it swinging with the wind, swaying back and forth, and loving you. Contrast in two love patterns, tearing me apart maybe a great can answer my queries and stop this struggle, in depth passionate conversation with my hero. Answer me! The fire, the pretty flame answers all the stories giving them end where there is no begging, cheating whore don't lie to me. Don't give me false hope at Christmas, lust where there once was love. I'm starting to doubt the existence of love even existing, in reality death is the only love we have left. Maybe I deny too much in life, in love, maybe I can�t explain my disbelief and beliefs, with or without a father maybe you missed a chord change somewhere in that equation. I don't deny a lot but� Death I invite you! Jim Sherwood |
| Encounter Kinetic energy forces both love and revenge into one doubtful day in the hormones of a typical teenage death story, that�s right another one. Can lies told loose break the dangerous curve of humanity, or some how take down the angel of grace. The body they found in the cold, dark woods was that of a beautiful creature that once lived and breathed, and then died, the story continued. Passing the summer and moving into the winter, deadly cold nights, frosty trees, icy lake, winter blows harder than waterfalls plummet. Can God forgive? Can we overcome the doubt we have? What about that cover of the beautiful moment, when we re-created it in our thoughts, can you give evidence of that ever happening? Choose here and hound the place you gave to sorrow in the courtroom in your moment of courage, locked outside are the practice mothers and children cremating the dead and poisoned, fatally. What is death? What is fate? I don't understand the things I write so much about, after writing about them for so long. Can any of it be worth it? Jim Sherwood |
| Heart and Mind Locked inside your mind. Passing the opinion of your heart. Let it out my good friend and tell your next victim of all the troubles your crimes are going to cause him and his family. Did you know that murder causes more lament than you could imagine, an incident like that will never be forgiven. So crush your passion my good friend and lock away what your mind is telling you, your mind can be infected with insanity. Listen to your heart, promise me you will, and life will be so much easier for the world without your bloody victims being found in every corner of the continent. The truth is his mind was lying, the whole time, and became ridden by hate more powerful than love, but invisible to his friends. Had this purgatory man listened to his warm and loving heart the murders would not have plagued the world. He committed so much hate upon so many people and now these people sit at home and wallows in the loss of their loved ones. Oh my god, I just realised something important to this little tale. If the hate and truth this man committed was invisible to his friends� �How the hell do I know what he did? Jim Sherwood |
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| Hypnotic Flame When the house was full and the music began all the eyes became embezzled with the flame in the centre. Eyes locked into position people�s thoughts began to wonder nothing matters outside the amazement of colour and madness. Purple tide running onto the shore and crashing to the land, making dreams come true, making reality fake, making everything mean nothing at all. The stinging taste of dried tobacco and cigarette smoke unwinding in a hot sea with candles and wine. When I see your face in fog through molten space and troubled suburban grace, I see the pretty figure that is you, and in your heart I see the most amazing person that anyone could no, and I found that person first. My thoughts are still wondering while my eyes are locked into this hypnotic fire of death, decay, and warmth. In love I feel this safety net but purgatory death, my selfless life, help me reach out to you� Jim Sherwood |