In order

I am stayed,
Ne not heard,
I fall down,
I rise more,
The waves fall,
The moon signs,
The moon writes,
The night dawns,
A sun sets,
But strayed gone,
The owl hoots,
Though not heard,
Ere the night,
Become day,
To be sung,
Thus to sing,
To walk here,
Walks away,
The blame round,
Echoes far,
At last wept,
Is small felt.

G.H.O.S.T.

But while she walks round no life,
Is all but life in me to fight,
Stirs in dark, hides through light,
A ling’ring spirit ere close was nigh,
Dare myself a walk in ways I ne knew,
As a shadow close casts blood to brew,
Then, a quiet walk then was utter strife.

Within the clutches my nails soon broke,
Whose skin so pale, mine almost torn,
Whose watch even pierced sun at dawn,
Alas, no light would enter but here,
Last, my seconds deign the hours gone,
Is soon but fought my guilt is done,
For even silent whispers can me choke.

With every pace I forward was she turned,
With every breath my heart strung hers,
By light I would have known her first,
At that time she called to me a saviour,
But my lady, as said I am no better saint,
Here I am walking the slowest dare to faint,
For to close mine eyes is fate too burned. Read More

*

Before stars could write,
No light was ever born,
And when the stars wrote,
They kept themselves away,
And where the stars keep,
So long are those to dwell,
But once the stars are whole,
There’s little to be said;
Hence whole, they united,
Who touches the darkest sky,
Who bleeds for stars so still,
How bright and still remain,
At last to fall, last to fall,
A war be waged in them disperse,
A war they fought within,
And when the stars spoke silent,
Then only thunder ere flame brewed,
In many a shape and form,
Their song is many of the same,
A story from thus risen to fall,
And when the stars befell here,
This sun could but they to hide,
Hind the cloak of light they lay,
To give stars reason in knowing,
Their last was only their first,
Thus when the stars were past,
Their essence becomes the future,
At present, I can only wonder.

What there is

Observed were these folk who knew to bond,
Is so clever the device that is so fond,
When locked together by not even feet so bare,
Once they travel together, hence they live together,
Indeed was not their minds in bliss never to deter,
This much they knew never show to conform better,
Thus all complex thoughts in them were long erased,
Simple acts that had it in them were gay but phased,
And never did part from their routes to aspire,
How more for time lest cease they respire?
The mornings due but honest wait was long at bay,
In bed each of them their rooms so dark each lay,
Thoughts that start to race ere their minds bestow,
Laughed from times had, what fears locked below,
Like an angel in the dark she walks slow around,
And all happiness is surely but at once a noun,
Sudden faces would twitch and feel then touched,
This fear they locked was the angel unclutched,
All things once they thought they never had,
All the feelings of loneliness once so bad,
At first so vast was their mind another world,
Hurled into great expanses as mountains hurled,
This who they become and they thought was madness,
But surely is not but an angel to show no madness,
That reasons to be alone are reasons for life,
That they shall not stir but confront their strife,
No bigger strife is that against a mind so large,
They’d try for phone and music lest it barge,
At some point they go through roundabouts inside,
They seek a force from the circle of death to budge,
A simple word, or simple act that hurts to lodge,
Then they see themselves in the ire of Solitude,
Who sought themselves no light but long in solace,
Then they learn to accept the darkness in essence,
Then they learn themselves more in presence,
But darkness an all-encompassing drug so potent,
Is wholly the antidote to fulfil ones desires,
Through each moon this thought becomes them,
Through each night they stir closer to mind,
Through each mind lays the blueprint to life.

Echoes through the Night

His thoughts be trailing, no harp is sound;
His thoughts can only stir, ne not so bad,
Nor not so bad is he who walks gently away,
Who walks through night in search of meaning,
Meaning that only he can never just defy,
Who to defy but is slow to change in time,
To change in time means to rise to be better,
To be better is not to revolt in one’s mind,
Better that he walks silent and slow too still,
Too still was that which his heart would stop,
And his heart was clear, how best it may be,
And the answer’s clear, how much he ought to be,
To be seconds that once they were so fine,
So suddenly fallen into minutes a dainty glow,
How wretched it is a man to move mountains,
To move himself better falling over again,
Again he shall rise whether for what it is,
Whether it be pity or not, can never show,
For it can never show what essence is,
The essence of being part of the picture,
The picture of his paradise once he lost,
Once he lost, so shall he remake again,
Once remade, he shall be whole again.

Conversation with the Night

My night is soon to end, oh a little longer,
Alas so smooth but can never contend my dear,
Who can darkness lift if not to obey the sun?
No light can bring me wry for I am solely there,
This light that scorches me so but only breathes,
Alas so beautiful is the curtain I shroud around,
Colours that once were had only darkened esteem,
What colours if I am only the night to become?
This night that all things in light can never be,
Is not so long that shall I return and bestow again,
A moment for a while that you shall remain with me,
If only more could aspire to my darkening aura,
More do who would traverse the world for night,
My name begins with the night and ends in night.

Loudspeaker

There’s a loudspeaker in my head,
I’ll draw a circle through the sky,
Mine eyes stealing more eyes to see,
My silence corrupt and so, so cruel,
I’ll walk away into the deafening dark,
This mind that talks, these voices go,
No world is greater comfort than mine,
A step to take but an echo miles away,
For a moment before me everyone went,
For a minute just nothing but a pause,
A loudspeaker is all I need: a voice,
Give me hundreds and who would listen?
Smiles around but nothing behind,
The light that has lost its touch,
I’d rather wander through abyss alone,
A loudspeaker in my head is yelling,
Who curls up through the deepest woods,
Who looks up to the moon and sees nawt,
Sees himself within the dark: recoils.