Broke by the torn pond comes afar,
Withstood by the smallest leaf grown,
Signs the initials of love despair,
With weeping heart for more to flood,
A heart now fermented in tears born,
Who bore the veins that hang below,
How do we ever walk across to find?
Beneath the eyes, neath the realm:
Beheld the first glimpse of it all,
What reasons had to be born thus,
If life were mere lego as easy,
For every second becomes a single cube, Read More
Oft she took to greener sake,
No less she shook heart to break,
As the ashes of love come true,
So too shall tulips glow in hue.
These lesser days drag forth grass,
No more would she smoke so crass,
Her eyes once looked for the boy,
Though now her tastes grew so cloy,
So much her heart much so swelled,
And there in the midst of space,
Who grew no age than meets a face,
Traversing through the depths so blind,
Did crease the stars so far behind,
Those fading stars alack no more,
Whose echoes dark gleam wild so sore
Could not stop light in pass of time,
In unthought speed ne echoes prime;
Man’s dream for touch of iron sought, Read More
Out of the darkness their mighty fall,
From hence they rose ere more they throw,
In light of thirst they yonder grow,
Tender words thought at once so low,
And there begins a triumph better they call:
Wonders then for what he was, whom shall be,
These simple words; his mind so whispered far,
Tuned his mind to the sound his life ne does make,
And threw his eyes at reality’s greatest scar,
Whose life how fret could play not in tune. Ne. Read More
Or whom shall, if not mine last,
That I shall be to sight the last,
With sorrow fought no father bear,
His blood mine own in fated lair,
This flesh that I am nor bound,
Who but I can appeal how found,
The strings of heaven hang me,
A morse code to send me free,
And I shall live to the end as night,
There I am the wall of my fright,
Whether I am happy or not sung,
Then perhaps God can answer long, Read More
Hail the horizon calling you near,
See the light kneel before the hills,
Let thine eyes beam with tears descend,
Muse thy hand in sunken motion deep,
Count not the days that pass you by;
Let the days count the being you are,
Peer deep into the open road for walk;
A gut you keep is but miles you leap,
And more you leap with every dip pass,
These very first steps the path awaits,
Alight from here this road never moves, Read More
