Thirty Days and Nights

I am for one so spent in time,
Drew sunken cheeps in bitter rhyme,
Had I not been in past so fitter,
Nor never my lone state come bitter,
Then sat was I in lonely rock unmade,
Sang laments of lone stars to fade,
Then in light’s demise for words bade
Mine hourly depart from sun to hence,
Small my word casts from there whence
Grief conjures me a man to do worse
For simple tale upon my dreary hearse,
For I am distant past in little waste, Read More

Her Meaning

But I say not, but then I mean so,
Words I could never dare describe,
Mine heart with sorrow gone too late,
With drooping eyes with tears of glass
Could never tear through silken thread,
Nor the lonely steed to pass me by,
In lonely mountain waste I am spent.
These arts of utter grief lay barren,
Th’ease of woe in loss came so soon, Read More

On Approach

They approached me and wanted to know,
But whether ignoring or not, it was no,
Nights will pass and all hope would fade,
To ask myself why I could not have bade,
In still and silence mourn passing time,
This soothing night of mine was time,
How then I turned from sweetest to bitter,
My words rampaged before them like litter,
And they would move away; the brave fellow
Who could not forgive dampened hearts so mellow,
Had suddenly washed away this turning light,
My faults as now for paralysis sought tonight, Read More

Leave the Past

Ah, the sweet, smooth and sound past,
Like wine uncorked and drunk so fast,
With sweeter chimes of happier notes,
With bitter blots for known undertones,
Can only suffice the effect one sitting,
This drink of my past is mere bloodletting,
Leave it. Leave it. Go away. The past. Go.
The wine. The bottle. The glass. Throw.
Every drop of wine becomes blood vanquished,
I sit here and dream of past relinquished,
The beast within is the angel above,
The demon is the answer to my resolve,
Give me more, the past I need it more,
However I drink it, let me be so sore, Read More

Footing Recovered

I was with a friend towards the metro,
Everyone was busy. It was a crazy strife.
Sounds heard were then sounds retro.
Everything was a blur. Including life.

Not far from the platform I saw a man.
He walked. He slumped. He tripped. He fell.
For shock I would go, but for him I ran.
In such a state he was. No words could tell.

I still hear his panting. I echo them now.
His eyes full of glare and ever more tired,
This grief was more than reason could allow,
And there I was knelt beside thus enquired: Read More

Distractions Lost

And they engaged in themselves to another,
In the slightest per chance is lost,
In the realm of the mind to cease,
Came not the mind, but pleasantry,
And in their prison of pleasure wretched
Became the animal they once knew human,
And in the human they were, came none,
And of the nothing came utter bliss,
Once known were histories of love,
Now love becomes the MDMA of life,
In this, they walk with seeking rife,
And sounded their horns for new causes,
As shaken the roots in purpose forgotten, Read More