The Oracle dwells within
The speaker of truth
a cleanser of sins
The Witch
lies and decieves
The jester
just wants to please
The fairy
dances everywhere
While Rupunzal
let's down her hair.

They say patience is a virtue,
And likely they aren't wrong.
They say the meek inherits the earth,
It just likely takes so long.

They say that goodness wins,
And evil inevitably loses.
They say that the wealthy are quick,
Whilst the poor most likely cruises.

They say that sickness is a burden,
It drags a progressive world down.
They say the healthy lead the way,
Yet its their greed that drags us down.

Beauty and happiness seem to me
As transient as blossom on an apple tree
The two are not linked and I hope you see
Past this decaying carcass that holds the real me

My looks have withered as my waistline expands
My locks have greyed and my eyes have aged
For many years I've had my head in the sand
I now look in the mirror and see my sparkle fade

Beauty and happiness seem to me
As transient as blossom on an apple tree
The two are not linked and I hope you see
Past this decaying carcass that holds the real me

My looks have withered as my waistline expands
My locks have greyed and my eyes have aged
For many years I've had my head in the sand
I now look in the mirror and see my sparkle fade

When I was 6 I found a nest
A lone baby bird I had seen
I took it home, I thought it best

I sat the bird upon my desk
I dug for worms- juicy and lean
When I was 6 I found a nest

Mother Robin nearby, stressed
My action of love was factually mean
I took it home, I thought it best

The bird soon died upon my chest
I mourned for it, what could have been
When I was 6 I found a nest

Full of regret ‘I shouldn’t have messed’
It had become a melancholy scene
I took it home, I thought it best

There's blessing in this bracing breeze
that breathes on me with breath divine.
It bends the branches of the trees,
but fills, with joy, this heart of mine.

Beside this carefree gentle stream
I watch the lonely clouds float by.
They're wistful, like an angel’s dream,
or poet's sentimental sigh.

There's comfort in this place of peace,
far from the noise of mortal men.
The sylvan sublime sounds don’t cease
to captivate the poet’s pen.

I don't know your names.
I'm horrible at botany,
you flowers and trees
with views of the low hills to the west.

I adorn them with my own monikers
when I walk among them.
I don't mean to offend, and it seems they don't mind.

They are familiar acquaintances,
so I tell myself
they are probably happy
to be called something.

Yellow-Top Plant,
Crooked Climb-y Tree,
and Messy Red Bush
change some with the seasons,

The microwave beeps, breaking the silence
There's still some frost on the pizza
But she serves it anyway
A blank expression on her face

There are clouds gathering out the window
He seems to be staring that way
But whether he's seeing anything
Only he and god know

His eyes come back to the frozen warm pizza
For a moment he stares at it
As if unsure how to proceed
Then he raises his eyes to her
The silence heavy with words
That might never be spoken

Wolves
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson

Oh so small and delicate too
Is a young girl born into our world

So, from the moment she opens her green eyes
She’s at the mercy of the wolves

It’s true for a time they are bigger and stronger
And they know it

And throughout her life, she comes to learn
They will take every chance they have to show it

All so instinctively, she reaches for the ones
The ones who ought to keep her safe

Until the first time that they let her down
All to save a man’s name

Reborn, every morning
New eyes, without tears
But the same mind
The cold metal lay useless,
stained with blood
Don't look at it,
not for too long
You, who is covered in
stripes of your pain.
Ugly scars upon your legs,
They heal, but remain.
Remember;
You chose this for yourself.