You may think you're alone and your pain is your own
secret that no one can see
but your eyes danced with mine for one moment in time
and your sorrow sang clearly to me
I can see you have wondered for the answers that hide form seekers of truth and design
there are caverns of visions and shadows of light
if you search your own soul you will find
Use patience to the maximum extentIt must be exercised with determination
And it must not get foolish agitation
All things in this world
Be it small
Or large, furry or fussy
Were loved deeply by GOD
He them loved from birth
Through happiness and sorrow
and he grieved when their life
came to an end
But once god fell in love
He fell in love with a young girl
But the girl was soon to die
This was her fate
And fate were not to be broken
who was madly in love
poisoned the girl’s hairpin
so that she would go to sleep
When death then came
Busy as he was
That he had already done his job
When the hairpin was removed
The girl woke up from her deadly slumber
god had saved her from death
But death who now realized
That he had been tricked
and fooled by god
He decided to get revenge
He would make the girl fall in love with him
Stealing what god hold most precious
Death then took shape as human
And went to girl
They met every day for thirty days
And god could do nothing
as the girl slowly came to love death
and it pained him deeply
Even though the girl could never be his
When the thirty-fifth day came
Death revealed himself before the girl
The girl who had known
That death had been by her side all along
Were not startled or scared
She asked death who she had come to love so deeply
If he would take her life
He had also come to love the girl
When he turned to leave
The girl grabbed death
And embraced him
She and death were now one
GOD who had watched everything
Kept loving each human equally
And he never had to trick death again
To heap bliss, sleep is very kind
If sleep can be had with real ease
All our troubles will surely vanish
Sleep will surely give us all peace
Sound sleep is everyone's wish
Touch of sleep is soft like breeze
All setbacks, sleep will just finish.
My Dear Friend...
Why will life not let me be...
What is life if not a gateway to death?
The worst of times or the best of times some say
And living life lost with every breath
Perpetual pain 'till the end of days
Wanting to go, with no courage to end
Dying to live, only living to die
Reincarnation the soul to be sent
Pushing through life 'till you sigh life's last sigh
Yet the end of Life's load can bring relief
No longer a slave to the whims of fate
An end to Life's tragic and constant grief
Free the bonds of what destiny would say
Do not mourn the lost, be sad, or have strife
For what is death but a path to new life?
A queer thing indeed
Seems so insignificant
Yet it has wrought many wonders
Underestimated but lurking
In the shadows, under many
Covers and gaurded walls.
The insecure wants it.
The arrogant discards this.
But this four-lettered word
Is what keeps many going in
The worst of times, against impossible odds
When despair threatens
Many turn towards it,
Grasp and beg.
Oftentimes hope is there when unneeded
And sometimes when it is.
Without this warmth, just a flicker
Mankind would've gotten lost a long time ago,
Wandered in thier own misery.
But hope guided, kindled, And
Led them through and out
Of the darkness
One of those things
That seems to escape my grasp.
A flicker of warmth
During dark times.
A thing that seems to make the diference
Between coward and martyr.
The trick is to span that fine line.
Something that makes people realize,
Understand that it isn't,
Isn't all about bravery and swords or battles.
Makes you confront your mistakes,
Good or bad that may be.
Look again, it might be there
Friends and foes of flesh and bone from me they have flown
A different company I keep in reveries of twilight sleep
When night’s dark blanket does fall, I begin to hear their call
Carriage wheels creak, horses shriek, I look, but dare not speak
Some appear restrained; others seem in good manners untrained
Pale complexions, faces unshaven, countenances dark and graven
Friendly words are not uttered, heavy hearts remain un-fluttered
After a brief admiration I join this motley delegation sans hesitation
Through sleepy streets we ride, through dark alleys we arrive
To our place of gathering - in silence, without any chattering
Far from city lights, under a moonlit sky an owl hoots thrice
As if to wonder, “Are these nocturnal creatures of virtue or vice?”
These ghastly preachers with ominous features invade his lightless
Kingdom with a mysterious mission - in search of freedom,
Perhaps driven by some demon, or for some other unknown reason
The owl has seen enough, so it swiftly flies away with a huff
In a ruinous castle by moonlight lit, at a round table we quietly sit
The ghostly figures each reveal packets from under dusty jackets
On the table they are placed, then with their burning eyes I am faced
This is to be a feast, my hosts are many, but guests there aren`t any
The packets are unwrapped, their curious contents are unmatched:
Flavors of love and hate, horror, and beauty, to devour all is my duty
Some taste sweet, fruits of exotic flavor, I eat; everything I savor
Others brought blood to the table; to swallow this too I must be able
I eat, swallow, devour, my hosts are pleased; suddenly I am seized
By a feeling of heavy heart and head, I enter a dark sleep of the dead
When I wake, in my mouth there’s a strange taste, in my body I ache
But the ghosts` sustenance must be treasured, their feast remembered
Or else I`ll be dismembered, the dark treasures in the woods gathered
Will be retrieved and given to a more worthy soul, for their goal
Is to bring their bitter, bloody honey to feed the mind not the body -
The essence of life distilled by the dead in images and words I was fed
A pilgrim stood at an intersection of time and space
Waiting for a sign, a revelation, some kind of saving grace
Questions heavy as a millstone made him hang his head low
Wondering why the heavens are silent; why it is sadly so
The melody of a song suddenly reached his ear
It was soothing, dissipating dark clouds of fear
He forgot about his questions and worries for an instant
In that moment joy and happiness from him were not so distant
The music filled him, vibrating, shaking his every cell
This ecstasy lasted till the sudden tolling of a funeral bell
To make it stop he ran to the temple and pushed open the door
But by then the melody was gone, and he could hear it no more
“No, no! It couldn’t have gone, it couldn’t have died!”
“Give me back my hope, my faith!” desperately he cried
The sound of death was too loud, harsh and strong
But to listen with the heart one can never go wrong
The joyous melody was always there – now he knew
It never left him, away from him It never flew
It was the symphony of death with its barbarous beat
Trying to hide It - hoping that they two would never meet
Taking the time
to know who we are
what haunts the most
depression of thoughts
comes to mind
hurting the most
to why there is so much hate
laughter in the rain
why can't we see
taking the time
is knowing why
look beyond on years
to what we done and did
we made life into love stories
by taking the moment
life is about taking the time
but see what we all did
knowing someone is hurt
is to ignore the issue
problems arise to why
no one took the time
to realize what has come and done
can never erase the time
all we can do
is find the moment of time
to know and understand
what we humans do
the war of crime
children at war in the middle of the war
horror stories to tell
to what one member has been through
look at the world what do we see
racism hate anger illusion of sickness
depression everywhere we go
cause no one realize
taking the time
is the fact of life
why does this happen
why can't we solve everyone problems
life is a game and the facts of the time
time to look at the clock
are you in a hurry
can you wait
listen to your child wife or husband
the modest of time goes so fast these days
who's got the time
only one person who has the time
Lord above us all
he knows we talk to ourselves
he knows we whispers to each other
faith to believe is taking your time
for all is there
one day soon you may to
have no time
for anything for yourself
we all need the time out
cause time is patience for those who do
perhaps we are all different
but sit and listen
read a book to your children
reflect in yourself what you can do
for us all
cause the Lord does plenty for us all
he is always there
but he cannot do it alone
Lord needs us all to work it through
but some reason
the world is in fear for the war
lets Pray do we have the time for that
yes in our own minds and heart
we take pride to what all do
so knowing to what we believe
taking the moment of your day
taking the time
Coming to my sense
what the world means to her or him
we slute to the modest of time
yet we look ahead
what comes over her to be in the sense's of life
is it for him
or is it just herself
thinking closing about herself
she is the sense's of her time
love came through yet once again
sorrows come to mind
is this real
yes to her it is
to love her sense to what she been given
is given herself the quote of life
to love a man for who he is
for her it's all about love faith honesty
her sense's are true
expection is there one
yet once again in her life time
she found her sense to be in love
with a man who loves her for her sense
of loving him just for being himself
In a house of butter, sleep, solaced by an arcane gold
Lined with velvet carpets coy in lavish modesty.
Dulcet tones elapsing past the sundry finished chambers
Forever home though you know not, in all its bogus truth.
Sine qua non until by storm one’s armor will be melted
A bullion sham of hope and loss that weeps through losing eyes.
Open doors and draining light—then death!—but life as well—
Rebuild with oozing bricks will you, or venture, start anew.
The sun will set, the moon will rise, by pale light you must march
Trekking through the vast unknown, too cold, lost, unaided
Stumbling over roots and stones, desperate, but for what? For what?
As endless space goes stretching on, and you, along with it.
By night rain falls and dark turns black and hunters feed on light
By day you skip and smile through a sea of watching eyes.
Drink your fill from dried up ponds that give you no reflection
Find your way by shards of stars that grant no light, you think.
Labored steps, a fall—no rise; on tip-toes you must bound
As string unravels endlessly and lives go flying by.
Groping through the boundless night for what you can’t obtain
Dragged across a rough terrain, keen prisoner of faith.
But the human eye will change, and adapt to the dark
So the rain need fall no more and rise the sun need not.
Yet you still fight, endure the pain for what you call your good
Filing through with head held high, gold glowing at your feet.
But after war the proudest soldiers turn to rubble dust
And under whited sheets you lie, bile victim of the grippe.
But by the sheets by death you live to see another light
And rest on haunches weary feet to look up at the skies:
I think I saw my revelation dancing in the stars.
I sit here and wait for release as I try to speak
No words come out and the silence streches out
No feelings to feel
No necessities to need
No object to see
My senses are dulled as I wander and sing
Waiting for my silent release
My thoughts float about and stray animals walk about watching with intense curiousity
I am one with nature as curious creature spark my imagination.
I walk about in silent revere for the world around me
My life drifts by as I walk the line between sanity and insanity.
Which path to take which one to choose
God only knows the right thing to do
Black paves roads.
What wonders our world beholds.
White marble buildings.
Number two pencils.
Blank crisp papers waiting for words.
Hundreds of homes a thousand years old.
They all look alike under one midnight sky.
White and black mix together.
Uniting under one corruptless nation.
Empires fall their stories later retold.
Their glory lives again.
The legacy continues.
New and past generation live and die.
They all feel and see life differently each with a purpose unknown.
They hear music so beautiful tears will fall.
Above in my heaven lies all my family or so I am told.
All of them and God who gave us this earth to roam.
Forever to wander in pairs or alone until one day when we all die alone.
Words say mean things.
Words say kind things
Words make my world go 'round and crumble down.
Words show love and words show hate so that people can appreciate literature with feeling.
Words change lives for better and for worse.
Words connect people with those who are lost.
Words make people smile and some cry.
Words can go on for endless miles.
Words hold secrets, fears, and doubts.
Words show love and rearrange things about.
Words make and break bonds and show trust and betrayal.
Words are out and cannot be taken back leaving regrets that last forever.
Words have so many different meanings to everyone so make sure when you write on that new piece of paper that you write what you mean and that you mean what you write.
Girl on Fire,
Boy with bread,
Lover with bow,
Fake people with roses.
At first glance you don't see it all.
But after years the truth is now known.
All has been broken,
All has been fixed.
Now comes a rebellion just for some kicks.
People starve and children wait to find out their terrible fate.
Cries arise and people shout,
Screaming for the government to let them out.
Through smoke and ash people wait,
Just to find someone who can relate.
No one comes.
Lungs burn from stench and hearts break from the wreck.
Homes are lost just like people who are now left to search for a new foundation.
All was lost but now all is found as one girl has the chance to turn things around.
She's been through so much she is on her knees as she waits for the one who'll fix her now.
When he arrives he's shy at first but now he's all out saving lives.
The polish is off and someone is found.
Someone so pure just like a flower gets killed through a bombs great burst of power,
Hearts are broken once again.
Then the boy with the bread makes some new friends.
In the end they save the day now haunted by people long passed away.
They've had two kids, a boy and a girl who won't have to carry the weight of the world.
I dedicate this poem
To you, my beating heart
You ghastly, abhorrent thing
Where do I even start?
You pump my blood round and round
You work on my behalf
Then endanger my sanity
In you schemes to find my better half
You torture and you torture
But follow you I must
It’s not fair, but you don’t care
That I lie rejected in the dust
I don’t think I can handle it
Realy don't know if I can
But please o vile, wretched thing
Please do it to me again