For All Time

Unlike any other

A night for all time

Cherished in memory

Reliving every second

Over...again and again

Unequivocal romance

electric passions

rekindled every day

A memory for all time

Remembering your grace

sensational presence

Mesmerizing gaze

Lives forever in me

Unlike any other

A night for all time

Alive inside of me

Revisited over and again

Your love will never die.

Precious Commodities

Drawn and Edited by:  Randy Sturridge

Magnificent lights erupt lighting night sky

The crowd responds with hackles and jeers

A fifteen minute segment every year on this day

Townspeople and young folk cheer and carry on

Innocence envelopes their frail souls keeping out dangers

Parents with fortified presence steer others from a perimeter

Little tyke and his buddies are being watched closely

Daddy catches a glimpse of the works here and there

But he knows that the precious commodities are the reason he is there

Year after year the cheers and the festivals taunt an on-looker

He chooses not to watch the light show but instead watch the tykes Father

This Daddy will never experience the torment of being too fire sky drawn

To learn the cold hard truth that the world can steal more than thought possible

The onlooker watches the finale as tears flow from his yellow somber eyes

This onlooker never got a second chance to make it right a second time

The little tyke's Daddy picks him up, a quick spin, and turns to leave

The onlooker brings the bottle from his mouth and catches the eyes of the Father

A nod from one and tears from another, remembering losing a daughter and her brother

The Father passes without a word, as the onlooker swiftly opens his mouth inserts the gun and pulls the trigger

No more dreams or second chances, all it takes is ten seconds to destroy three lives

Randy Sturridge

Love for a Pretty Girl

A queen, a gem, a rare artifact I possess

Savored, worshipped, for purposes unsaid

Protect sacred thoughts just in case

Should it arrive, the moment I’m erased?

Never quite losing but I find myself floored

With thoughts and fears of hearing closed doors

Voices of Love

Drawn and Edited by: Randy Sturridge

Beautiful something my hand’s dare hold

So fragile, yet powerful, warm yet cold

Beautiful something bring life unto me

Satisfying, justifying, my nerves set free

Grown into me, become my purpose

Giving reason for living with emotions surfaced

Those Who Mumble

Edited by:  Randy Sturridge

On days of respite we should so praise

The wrong decisions that are continually made

Why the conflict in positive grants

When so many kindred characters lose their stance

Times of strife bring about life

Preparing the gauntlet to restructure time

Toys Asunder

Drawn and Edited by: Randy Sturridge

Rapid descent unmasking tyrants

Boys of darkness cackle irrelevance

Pin cushions, broken dolls erase

Child play, on sunny fun filled days

Shadows deep with purple thick heat

Strengthening evil as all the good recedes

Cloaked in corners, drones of dirt

Mismanaged jigsaw, cork torn skirts

Thunder claps lightning, spider lit sky

Shrieking pointed ringing, heaven and hell collide

Swirl of grandiose masterful plans

Holding so close dangling mortals in hand

Psycho lured dwelling that emboss the weak

Raise them by flesh to rip apart and cleave

Randy Sturridge 

Behind Hollow Eyes

Created by:  Randy Sturridge

Hollow eyes with hopeful thoughts

disillusioned, talent bought

Weak frail soul what have you done

It's been a long while since you've had fun

Flesh with dirt canvas your being

You were my role model for everything

Wisdom vast with experiences sound

All for nothing, to lay back down

Your eyes leave traces of who you were

I can see him back there, a prisoner, he lurks

Cynical parasite that has taken his soul

Negative energy as black as coal

Leaves a feeling of loss and nostalgia

Knowing you're gone but may yet return

Gives hope and faith that this invader will burn

I can't say if this darkness gives way

I just hope you will come back some day

Locked in it's hooks it's warped your good nature

Leaving a parasite of a cynical nature

I'm letting you know that I must sit on the side

Resigned to accepting that you may die.

Randy Sturridge

t h e Setting Sun

www.dickiegonzo.com

Skinned Sin

written by: heidi chester

Here you are, down on your knees again.
Crawling and bleeding and ripping skin.
You're dying but trying to breathe again.
But you’re smothered and covered, soaked in your sin.

You're pleading and screaming all apologies.
Your chanting becomes ranting and makes no sense to me. 
While you're reaching your screeching at me to see-
That it isn't yours, there is no you, there is only me.
<br>



Here I am, down on my knees again.
Crawling and bleeding and shredding skin.
I'm dying but trying to breathe again.
Drowning and sinking inside my sin.

There is no you, there is no me, there is nothing here. 
There is no love, there is no hate, there is no fear.
Just silent screams, and empty dreams for no one to hear,
Bloody tears, no memories, souls far from clear.

Here we are, down on our knees again.
Sinking, no wallowing inside our sins.
We're crawling and bleeding just to breathe again.
Locked inside ourselves, in this private hell, stuck inside our skin.

Here we are down on our knees again...

The House That Dwight Dwells

Standing tall canvassed against the light

Ominous and eerie exciting delights

Rusted gate with trash weeks old

Wraps around the structure unsold

Tempting thoughts obstruct my being

To go beyond more than just day dreaming

Enter this structure I must entertain

The history attached of those that were slain

Adventure I must into this dwelling

My curious nature of the murder compelling

Slain and dismembered from what I remembered

by escaped convict dwight who never surrendered

Four little friends out to begin an adventure

Explore the old house where nobody ventured

Just little friends that play cops and robbers

Leave in remembrance a township of sobbers

I walk to the door and trace the thick oak

A scream in my mind, Hands at my throat

Heavy...Thick...Dark laughing Exists

Rumored to house Dwight and the victims

Of the slain children his demon lives within

Achilles reoccurrence they constantly relive.

Torturous thoughts so each to give.

I back off the porch a taste I've entertained

Terror sits firmly for the evil remains

Never to return to this house of mad death

Still being tortured the children can't rest

One little touch...Is all that it took

To experience the evil and set in it's hooks.

randy sturridge