I so longed just to feel your warmth again. Your presence makes me feel so zen. I followed your trail for miles and miles. But I only ended up with your fellow exiles. I’ve refused to accept that you’ve just vanished. Disappeared from this plane, utterly banished. I swear my mind conjures up versions of you. Walking the streets, I see you in my view. Each step I took, I lost more of me. Chasing a phantom, longing to be free. I chased you relentlessly, your breathe in the air. But found only fragments, your absence everywhere. The more I ran, the less I knew. Until the lines between us blurred and through. While chasing your ghost, I became one myself. I’ve lost the ability to be felt.

There once was a spark, a burning flame. A light that flickered, wild and untamed. But as time kept ticking, it wore it thin. The silence grew and doubt crept in. I’ve tried and tried, and gave it all I’ve got. It seems like everyone but me gets a slot. Pushing and pushing until I can go no further. My mind punishing me with its constant murmur. I guess my life is here at rock bottom. Slithering threw the depravity of Sodom. My heart now stumbled, and ceased to fight. All hope withdrew, consumed by the night.

The game of fate. A real debate. One round you’re dominating. Then the next, devastating. You might have all the trick cards. Then next round you’re in shards. The adrenaline builds with each and every round. Until the last card is put down and you hear that sound.

He’s deceitful, he’s cunning. He’s always running. The illusion of a giver. But really a sinner. Tip toeing and creeping away. He’s the real definition of betray. Coming in and eating your food. He really is quite rude. Stealing the joy that lingers in the air. He takes it all and will never share. He’s not the real deal, he’s an imposter. Behind the red had, is a true monster.

You’ve started visiting me in my dreams. Trying to get my attention, so it seems. It was once our world, but now it’s space. Totally vanished, without a trace. You’ve come back, but I no longer need you. I’ve been shown a new world, a new view. I’ve shifted to a higher world. My view on life, now unfurled.

Time alone..is the key. It’s the answer to be free. Alone with nothing but your thoughts. Yes, yes…there are lots. It’s when you meet the real you. Piercing eyes from every view. Caving in beneath the surface. Finally now hearing your purpose. That’s when ideas are born. A subtle shift from feeling forlorn. Once you find it, there’s no going back. Your eyes now see through the crack.

Some speak through the way of gifts. For their partner, it’s the thing that uplifts. Some use the power of the tongue. Making the other’s heart feel strung. Some express through physical touch. Their lover uses this as their crutch. Some depend upon quality time. It makes the daily uphill battle less of a climb. Some admire sweet acts of service. Thoughtfully done with a true purpose. In whatever way your love flows. Your bond strengthens and it grows.

Santa had taken an unusually long amount of time in the little house below the chimney. The reindeer were getting restless as their hooves began scrapping the crusted snow on the roof. They were on a timed schedule. And if they didn’t leave within the next minute, they would not make it to all their destinations. The rope that tied and wove together all of the reindeer was connected to the nose of the sleigh. The rope began to glisten gold as this magic seemed to circled around the rope. Trailing all the way to the head of the sleigh. The gold mystical magic then encompassed the border of the entire sleigh. Lighting the entire thing up. The sleigh then began to shake. Almost as if the magic had just given life to the sleigh. It began to rise and rise, cordinating its routes and calculating its speeds through the wind. Searching through every possible scenario to ensure that all the children got their gifts. The sleigh now had a mind of its own. It was now in charge of saving Christmas. As they sleigh rumbled its magic, preparing for blast off. The sleigh dropped a clear bottle down the chimney. The bottle was outlined in the gold magic; and inside was a rolled up piece of paper with a red ribbon securing it together. As it thumped down the sides of the chimney, CLINK, CLINK CLINK, THUMP. It rolled off of the logs until it halted at Santa’s large, black rubber boots. Santa was snoozing away with a cookie in his hand and milk crusted on his beard. There was a little boy in ninja turtle pajamas just staring at Santa in awe. There was a bottle of melatonin on the table near the couch. It seems the little boy put melatonin in Santa’s milk in order to trap Santa. He wanted to talk with Santa about making sure his mom got a gift. Inside the clear bottle the note read “Dear Santa, we figured some kind of hiccup happened but with everything you have taught us at the North Pole, we know you wouldn’t want us to wait for you. According to the Clause, section 18, bulletin number four, that states we must continue on course with or without Santa. You would want us to continue on the path. Comet will be waiting for you whenever you awake. Merry Christmas Santa!”

She stood at the edge of the silent dawn. Where shadows clung, but light was drawn. Chains unseen had bound her tight. Yet on her eyes, there burned a fight. She liberates her doves, with restless wings. The soft echoes of forgotten things. And with them flew her silent cries. Her dreams reborn in endless skies. She was released from her cage, her mind calm and clear. No longer ruled by doubt or fear.

The path I seek seems to be hidden. Concealed away, almost forbidden. Roses are like a magnet, tugging me in. Once I found this path, my journey would begin. As I walk the trail where roses bleed. A red path carved, by my heart’s own creed. The fragrance of roses dances in the air. A symphony of sweetness that lingers there. Whispering secrets to the chambers of my soul. Loosening my mind free, my spirit in control. As I walk by the rose bushes, more seem to sprout. Busting out of their shells, I knew I took the right route. A few steps more, a red cape seems to appear. Blossoming from the crown of my head, down to my rear. As if I conjured an ancient spell that just materialized. The silken cloak unfurls, I was almost hypnotized. It drifts downwards like a whispering enchantment. Woven out of thin air, like a mystical advancement. With each step I take, the ground begins to bleed. As if it were guiding me and I took the lead.