Silent night

But in honours the star they reach,
Sure made their children to teach,
Once it sparkles so did their eyes,
Then to a father they rise,
His minutes the hours the minutes his,
There stands outside and walking this
Man who knew not where to sight,
Beheld cranberries soaked in light,
For his half and children poured,
Stops short his breath; tears soared,
Passes the mulled wine their holy ester,
Is not what he’d dream have in Leicester,

Apocalyptic Solitude

I

Oh, breeze that ye Nature gush me forth,
A winding darkness that shrouds around,
Soon that weeps He in his lonely state,
And he in the silence that bore him through,
Alas for not the reasons he has to justify,
Though not his darker nature that seeks,
If not the light, then yearns for darkness,
And slowly descends into the caverns here,
That madness stirring, only slightly shaken;
The barrels of the dungeons whence he lingers,
Of that peaceful state in which he lays in wait.

Because every man is his own story,
But none are willing to tell it;
All men suffer in silence.

Shifting worlds

At some point a sign turns and so will I,
The drastic moment of truth once evaded
Soon fades and the mind within only stirs,
Whose shallow touches at the corner cower,
Where the shadows once I look deeper gone,
But later I find myself walking alone again,
At that same place at the same time yet,
With only little money and so I travel,
To an unending darkness that swept me,
Thus shrinks and kneels before it,
Forgets the whole world and all,
Closes his eyes; deafened now,
Wishes another world fare,
To take him away there,
And back again.

For silence

It becomes silent abrupt, all known ere sunk,
Steeped in the ways, surely made a closer look,
Mine eyes that wander through the cages of my body
Seek to liberate my senses at the cost of my sight,
That falls on the floor my falling conscience weep,
Thus weep, for nothing in the world can comfort silence
Upon which we shake the tremors that cry our name once,
Then whisper it again as we fall into the foray alack;
Brews again another laugh with his mates then sinks again,
So that once it’s dark and all enclosed thus I be whole again.

Born solitude

Fallen high and from the mount steep greatly made,
Shrieks of horror the utmost still hath shunned awry,
Fettered and utmost delight the branch were wreathed,
Sundered under the bane that shall of my flesh forgo,
Wholly corporeal yet so fine under a gaze weakening,
To declare and command my hatred at those above,

Neither land nor sea

As did see that daring light unto my face,
What illusion wrought my purpose unfounded dearly fare,
Frowned in me this new World ere lived now embrace,
That shining Sun that does mock my mind only curdles,
That this still and silent air as walked I from thence hither,
Motions my companions: see, what a world we have here!
Slowly arrives, and thought myself that had died and lived anew;
Tears that no water can procure; whence the Life does conjure,
Had lifted my ladder as my heart does lift me into the pearl:
That oyster mine endowed beauty in this world what not so ere described,