Open Canvas

Within each being a canvas framed,
There let form the colours life to paint,
Ere erase the strokes of simple brush fade,
Alas could not face the patterns it forms,
Alas could refuse to cut through paper the art,
The art indeed is fickle mine heart inclined,
And whilst silence broke and so my word is lost,
Within me there remain black and white colours,
My grey is but kindred felt and earnest fought;
Then I shall wage war against the demons inside,
To history I beset myself in bleeding hope to fall,
So till heart annoy a destiny awaits my feat destroy,
With rising memory thus ye capture lest more forget, Read More

For Greatness

As a man was raised but less than he,
For bitter soaked is ill litter thorn,
So bitter his life now comes to be,
And the seconds pass since then was born,

Whatever ere is sought beyond his reach
In thinner air every breath becomes a chore;
Himself the very bore he ought to teach,
Himself lone bare yond he ought be sore,

At the same time, he reads more to aspire,
And pages from which then he shall become
Throw no more than what his worth to respire.
As he laid down through the wreathes some Read More

His Universe

Unsound is still and hearth benign,
Which instead becomes strange depart,
His earnest thought comes modest known,
And the saints draw lines from the stars,
The oceans swept and hundreds pass to fall,
By and large this man from centuries hurled,
Who threw no fault except for hands he breach,
Found himself in the distant space afar
And soon shall he in knees to fall despair,
Ere thus he laid to plea for time in peace,
Ere thus he comes to dark is lost for time,
This big bang his mind comes into foray,
Learns that his life is but fraction of this, Read More


Every day became the nights she ought to sleep,
Through which the sun will rise from past too deep,
Is slumber grown how quaint the waiting hours,
How quiet is the life she seeks in humble towers,
Though for is but here at dawn no void replace,
And whispered loud in lonely keep is hearth misplaced,
Where same trees through tears and sun in leaves adorn,
Hers be the shadow these simple tears is feign reborn,
Alas her tone how faint could not walk a bitter mile;
For each mile stretched is but less so her dainty smile,
Then cast her not from that sleep and since she bides,
Little then is known though honest choice yet she hides,
With this life so many years long shall crawl in wake,
This same fight she had in many days grew old to take,
As much she struggles but fares little as much to cease,
Only to realise her ways of old gave little to lease,
No kindred soul would spend her life with none at ease
For lasting sleep had in that tower was gone to peace.

Maze of Life

I had a dream where I was wandering through a maze. Each time I turned right or left a door would fade in from the passage I walked. Each step effected a spec of light from beneath the opening door that tore through the grey plastered wall set on high far from view. As I entered through this new opening I saw a memory of my past caught in wake. Like a distant echo that calls you forth, this one was the echo of an image I long never have thought. To truly enter would mean to be trapped in that room with no hope of return: isolated in the expense of that very thought at the very hour of my thinking. To only see this is but truly to relive.

Slowly I closed the door and whispered farewell to the figures and thought that be, and so I continued my journey through the maze of life.

Free from others

And this he thought long but no lesser said,
An urge to conform yet instil other
Forms ye take if less that be had it so,
At once he would ponder no less than so,
What ought be done but crawl beneath the crowd
Yet stoop to find if else less he ought find,
Beguile himself a way to kindred hope to lose,
Sought himself a style his life in content shade,
Alas could not for fear he ought be judged in shame,
Could not esteem himself to bigger hopes and dreams,
Nor would dare to wear, speak and act real himself,
His friend took note and began a therapy like this:
If all the world were one and the same to live, Read More

Noble Man – VI

Somehow but if it were so can be said,
Simply put my balance held high air borne,
A risk I took and was better then was laid,
For what breeze I took was what worse I hold,
Ere morn is part mine hour is destined born,
A light was clear but then the moments soon fade,
Whose glimmer of hope stood in the feats of shade,
A dower to resolve is muster courage ne resolve,
He ought to walk alone and in the midst he stood,
He knew then what more he is than what less is I,
If he and I are best in wait and knew he my shadow,
Who could feign an utter memory: a lark in darkness,
Held again by the branches from which was trapped,
Sudden fear of loss came mount again in early state, Read More