A cool summer’s eve drew sun in evening glory. At a distant fold knew better light where breeze and sound combined would mute the nature between them. Within that nature, with sounds of walking footsteps through trail of wood and mud, there was I and a friend going through it all. Recounting the steps to this unknown part I could not call home nor haven. It was but a guest in nature’s woods. Watching through the glistening water from premature rain to cover the leaves with tears that drooping their eaves cast light into our eyes. These shady leaves in number grew had only our shadow they knew; more they found our steps to folly they surround us. Where one of us would attempt a log to pass through, another would walk around. I was the former. Read More
Honour that he lost shall thus be gained,
Ere halt his steed shall rise again,
Whispers of hallowed name are spelt,
Swords now drawn thy foes now dealt,
More null than keep in heaven’s weep,
Ere much he says in less words to keep,
Yearlings too mute to speak word for fear
Our survivor in the yolk must stand so near.
Hours now the breaths you long to take,
Still keep in meagre sight lest art so fake
Shall time thy heart for actions all too well,
Lest thine heart in action is wrought to swell,
Move the moon from noon ere moon is boon,
Motion for new ways can never be so soon,
Onward now for honour’s pass in bitter waste,
Never return unless war has been your taste.
Oh, oh, our Earth is in little known space,
The lesser of two evils within blue and land,
ALAS, the night so grown is but bitter,
Glory of Earth is our darling of the Sun,
This muse who says there’s no number on Earth,
A little song I can with battle in haste by word,
Delight in sombre, in coldness, in darkness, he came,
The avofaunal triumphs shall together away but fade.
The humans; he and she, shall banish all hate and love,
All hate and love indeed giv’n, giv’n in more the air,
You, whom we shall name as sum of pains and pleasures known.
Withstood are honours and passions through this we ere
Say are but music for challenges known are better grown,
Till all things known are slowly piled into utmost calm.
To vanish from eye of foreign vessel or mutual fair,
Given my faith to thee, shall serve and better part.
In ways that I cannot offend,
Give me leave lest I ought defend,
The voice of this pet ought you take,
More line her drawings new come to bake,
Least of which my heart nought to take,
For which my whispers come hard to fake,
As clouds descend mine ire so few,
This breathing shard that sounds anew
Come soon in lieu the art ought be known,
How this pet smiles and this ne be thrown,
Trickle tears here, man, this ought you have,
For this hound to be thy counsel ought to have,
How beautiful is it the love she has for you, Read More
At some point I decided to enter a spherical room covered in a single mirror. At the epicentre of the sphere at the bottom was a single light in circular shape. It illumined through a translucent glass which neither blinded nor shaped the way I feel at the very sight of my own reflection. I was imprisoned here. It was now my home. So it was, and so my ugly face was to blame; for my soul was trapped inside this feeble figure which I call a body which served no purpose whatsoever. Nor could I wed. Nor could I love. Nor could I hate. Nor could I live. I wanted to die. I wanted to suddenly disappear. An hour would pass and I almost forgot how I entered this room or why I entered it in the first place. It was almost like an escape pod onboard a ship, in a distant star system; in this space, in this hour, half my life was kept, half my life shall rise again – so rise above the stars. The more I distance myself away from society, the more human I am; the more time I spend in the stars, the more I see myself for what I truly am. Read More
Of the peak at the mountain stops,
My heart so wild it grows cold awry,
These words I knew but never so few,
The gambling sop mine ehre this knew,
Who, of who, could never this low is due
For hunger of tears my thirst is through,
These hearts I once so, so knelt abide,
Can never watch my dearest climb so deep,
Into the chasm from which the heathen falls,
Mine art so few can never come to fall.
Let night come, my dearest Gretel, let come
Tears of holy night my death is surely missed.
This man; this man I ought I am, is sorely here,
Sister of mine, for long I sought in slumber keep,
Kneels before the lonely moon, this bitter man I am,
Who, of who, could never my art disdain,
Of street lamps no finite end lay,
I counted each whilst I drove away,
Each flash became a second to rest
Whilst memory becomes my saint to bless.
The hours long done send me to night
From here to new life within the light,
So that the road behind me dims to dark.
‘Cause the sound of wheels mute my mind,
Your voice once I knew I leave behind,
An echo through my spine shakes my hand,
Focusing not, I could never understand
Why you’d bother trying to call me here,
For I’m free to choose without you not near.
And that I am dying to say these final words,
My heart compresses; I can never look backwards,
Every vein of blood shrinks no eyes can tell,
All the past becomes a single marble I fell
For darkness acclaim no hand can never reach.
So when I take the call, I am hence to teach.