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


Some wheres then shall he find himself away,
In the same way that the moon falls in shadow,
In the same vein the light shall pass through,
The same line that once he took was bitter known,
To kneel before the glimpse of dark is taught,
Alas were not his road to take but ill before,
Thus the tears of old shall in life bring anew,
In the man’s secret heart who knows well his pain,
And in the dark but does not seek ne not show,
Sat behind the facade of life in between he and self,
This shadow in dark but a shame of past swept forth, Read More

In You

Begun were the days in light’s sake,
Here few are the smallest drops of rain,
Began are the days that invite you here,
Breathe again; the sight is yours reborn.

Marching through the scorching lidless fire,
A candle was but her heart’s intake as felt,
Fickle and fought were her tears to oust,
Would then but Neptune’s ally yearn to help,
Bring this our torment these waters poured,
In each descent of drop the wine was taste,
Fall through the creases here, here, here,
A heart to vibrate the glass you call fear,
In each sound your steps be the life of tremor.

Let the wind blow who knows more,
Right and left, forward and back, slip and through,
Cast thyself into the fire whose heart is burned,
A soul is lingering to glow but how knew not,
Ere beau is sung the scars we never see,
Though how simple beings we with complex minds,
How tired we are in a day’s struggle against us,
To come back and dread the morrow’s own dread,
But for the gates of life are truly inviting,
To lose is but an option only for the few,
And to lose is but to kneel ere fate’s resign,
Though that was never truly in your heart’s design,
So shall see walk back into the dark her lantern high,
The dark heart is but the blood we never find,
Sound is but you who can find within and move,
Words brought are but similes to become you.

March on, neither empty nor full a stomach to delay,
Head up, for every fall is an equal and bigger rise,
Whisper your name and see who you behold how true,
In years, then the years shall find you more to rouse,
To display the splendour you muster for hope and you.


A little while and slowly parts away,
But for brave deeds known ere the pleasant call,
Is home for not but gained in mustered wake,
Within whom looks round and sees hearth truly him,
The figure in dark was but sure at bay,
Although how mute one can be in hope’s face,
Before long they kiss the lips however dark,
For sure as he you shall find your way,
Treading each step as though the first was not,
Then look back and see how far you travelled,
Then hear the echoes of dreams as they come.