Listen closely
The song of despair
That the wind chimes
Carrying the whisper
On the back of sorrow
Of the loveable grifter.
What promise was given
What hope remained
Sins forgiven
Now drained afar,
At what price
The soul lost,
Weeping in my shoulders
The unbearable cost.
Fall to the knees,
A victim of own selfish needs,
I carried a name that was not mine,
Broken by myself,
A divided soul a fragile mind
What remains of the legacy
Is of this barren life.
In your devices I am trusted,
For the love that was given,
Kindness that was taught,
Compassion I saw in your eyes,
Through the scars that time wrote.
Though it was not said,
No tear uttered nor a moan lost,
I assumed the pain taken,
That resided deep inside.
But your heart never turned a shade,
As it was ever glowing,
You showed us what it meant,
To not take what life was given,
But rather live it as if it is your own.
Now I stand, bit alone and scared,
Thinking of the time we spent,
By your side I sit still,
Yet you are gone.
I do not know,
Where this life might take me,
Or if I will take it by the throat,
One thing is now certain,
Your love embedded,
In my heart still it beats,
I still cry as I did,
By your side in deep.
Moments I will share,
The time we had to see,
I regret nothing,
Except not saying I love you,
one more time,
how much you mean to me.
Your scent gone,
My cure to ease the troubled mind,
Left to my senses,
The corrosive thoughts that lingers inside.
A prisoner of yore,
Chained to the rock of my own demise,
That light that made me warm,
Now fills some other hearts.
How long shall I stay,
A prisoner of my own disguise,
The mask once worn,
You clearly saw behind.
To lay and blame myself?
Or to rise above?
Blame I only knew,
Until the question some voice asked.
How long can a man suffer,
What more punishment to take?
By beating your heart
with your own hand,
What is your real desire?
To climb above? Or to break?
For what it’s worth,
My love was present.
For what it mattered,
My mind was healed.
A promise given,
A word ushered, yet in the center,
A heart mended,
Soul lost and a mind awoken.
Life has a measure,
Which we ignore,
A cruel laughter and a twisted sense of humor.
Yet in its mocking, a bliss of wisdom awaits, for those who dare to listen.
Stop. Close your eyes and open your heart.
The truth is present.
Time flows as the bone rots,
Past haunting and unforgiving,
The future by you is fought, not given.
Calm, I keep my peace.
Serenity, a moment untouched,
Untainted by the sanity of life,
Protected from the poison of heartbreak.
Divided, my fickle mind stands,
Pulled on the side of slumber.
Awaken, I dream,
Worlds of love and plunder.
If the dreamers of the day,
Are dangerous as they say,
Then for a reason good I fear my mind,
For the sweet embrace it cries.
Then again sleep eludes me,
Fearful of what I might find,
As the dreams I get awake,
Even those ones make me cry.
I often look at your eyes,
To see if I am still there.
Some time has passed,
But surely One thing remains.
An ember of hope,
Like a leaf in a river,
There it hides.
Behind the beauty that is your pain.
I stop,
Stare and gaze,
In hopes I shall find,
A reflection of my own self.
But to my surprise,
I only see,
A man who’s beauty transcends my own.
To that figure I lose my eye,
Trying to find who he is.
His smile clean,
His hope high,
With a clean demeanor he carries.
Jealous at the point unknown
Should I cry of envy.
But my eyes he holds,
Without the dark burden,
I weep under the light seen,
Now I wonder what you created,
The image of me that could had been.
I’ve been wasting life,
Time and time again,
Going to different places,
Searching for a meaning that is not there.
What are we,
Flawed humans,
For a purpose we yearn,
For a course we tremble,
Fighting for a meaning.
And yet what is life,
Then to live cursed by ignorance,
It is not a purpose we desire,
It is not love we want.
Those things same as all wither and die,
Perish same as the hope that once lived.
It is not pride,
It is not dear wishes for what we strive,
But in life we must stay human,
Passionate and living,
Our hearts still beating,
A hope that never dies.
What is the cure for my wounded heart?
Is it the sweet words of comfort that lay on the written pages,
Past mistakes lived,
Poured by the creators of pain,
Masters of symphony that crushes the sound and tears the joy alive?
I wonder,
Do I keep myself in their stories,
As it easier is to relive the horrors of one’s life?
As no consequences are asked from the keen reader,
Paid in full by the author,
As clearly as the day that rises,
You can see,
The sweat and tears that ran rampant,
In the ink that now dries,
As the heart still bleeds.
But as my mind wonders and my eyes cross between the blurred lines of the letters presented,
I can not help but wonder,
What price was payed for such sorrow,
As who becomes the master of issues concerning the soul,
A teacher of pain and misery?
Stuck in this perpetual limbo,
Where the heart battles the mind,
One pulling the tether that bounds,
The other fixed in his position to defend,
The past mistakes I called love.
I stand at the distance,
Watching the never ending debate,
My mind caught in between the struggles of the soul,
To carry on which is the choice,
To love blindly
Or to hate reasonably?
And each one of them,
Speaks the truth as they know,
Perhaps that is the sole reason,
Why my mind trembles between this war.
Stubborn they are in their ways,
To each their side prevails,
Each a hero in their own tales.
Who is right? And who is wrong?
The one that is left standing.
As my mind crumbles in this constant war,
I fear that I won’t make it.
As the heart wants what it wants,
And the mind despises the decision the other makes,
I am left alone,
A sole man in this never ending tale.
My voice gets lost,
In the sea of millions,
Forgotten as it stands,
Crushed under waves of imagination.
Despair crosses my mind,
As doubt takes ahold,
What once a proud poet said,
Now a mere shell sits,
Casted on the empty shores of life,
By the tide that swipes all,
Now he wonders was it all for naught?
Even the bright hope of the sun,
Means little to the one who is lost,
How can it allure,
When doubt ate all perception?
Now lost and damned,
I sit and wait,
For my eternal redemption.
But still, in the fearless moments that occur,
I find myself wanting,
Waiting,
Shivering,
For a chance so the voice of hope can be heard.
The Word Den 