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Before a shrine of orchids, in the dead of winter Few voices are astir and cling To the tatters of life Their words tread softly, so withered and bare Seldom spared In a calm and gradual whisper All their melodies coalesce And glide through the morn Through procession’s of black To the lone dark grave…
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I’m the fast-fading isle of peace Where the rogue waves converge In their rally with death
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The fall of rain was sudden and frigid On an afternoon stroll among friends Wide-grins and all And we could not be bothered We swung, we sang As the broad gray skies overflowed In their brief spell of sorrow We carelessly sped Through the rust-coated steel of our past And were spared, from the grief…
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The world is the author of these words Not I Its rivers roll through With their songs of creation and wrath Tragedy is a guide For every stroke of this pen In the long spacious hours, when I’m fed with despair Life composes the vitriol I spit Every curse, every ballad of blood Was never…
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Originally posted on Raja's Insight: ? Crash and burn Was the iron toll Hoisted High and proud ? A shadow cast Far and wide The tyrant of tired eyes ? Each fearful step Each mishap spawned Was a cause To burrow within ? To crash and burn In lethargy’s hold Full With timeless remorse ?…
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Time just edges along Causing arms to outstretch And tired young faces to wince Today, the world rushes by In the shroud of their cold-dead eyes Every sound, a death rattle before silence Every generous new breath is forgotten The bounty of this life, overlooked In the haughtiness, of a teary-eyed yawn
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It only gets better, my friends A new plain slate will unfold for us all As we reclaim our bearings In the death, of our trials by fire My friends A day will soon flower That will silence our groans Every colorless sigh of dispassion It’s a promise That strays from my voice Wearily, roving…
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The hours, are viciously skinned alive Being shaved into the void All along with my once raging hopes Anticipation, is a villainous bomb That quivers in my mind Diminishing the quiet with worry It is an evil that aspires To scatter, the fragments of my skull In a sudden rush of panic and want I…
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A genius in the art of deceiving An impostor lives on With the voices of the world, nestled deep in his pocket They speak only for him As he draws out the madness of these times The armed masses, in their lock-step defiance A true peddler of panic With an arsenal of lies “Home crumbles…
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Out with the clutter of old ways Cast aside every shrine That dismally, glows, forgotten Burn every merciful bridge That lends its retreat into former glory Into a faded day’s joy Uproot and set fire to every shrub That once promised you new heights A view far and wide Defer from the nourishing past Dismantle…
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