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Flowering sonnets Drown out, the bittersweet truth It flails deeper down In these swollen rivers of ink The colors of the surface say nothing at all Of the hardships that brew In the soil below They sing of fairer days Of the triumphant spirit of Rome As the bitter truth, pangs in the dark
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Originally posted on Raja's Insight: ? By each hysterical wind I grow frail, dull and passive Displaced From the reach Of solid ground ? The joyous hours Spent racing Are far and few ? Blending the world To a pulp Of disorder and sound ? Warm currents Bring about The full flair of elation ?…
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A gracious summer rain Sends the heatwave scurrying home Into its fiery depths For now the inferno has been slain, My smoldering misdeeds all quenched In the steam of the parched concrete Today I will slide down the slick roads of autumn, Given over To its nurturing sorrow But I will lose this calm Once…
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Let this dull day burn upon the pyre of dusk Let it rise into the dreary night sky And I’ll sink with my delusions
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How wrong of me To bury the trails of an elder Sprawling from the past Full of glory and darkness
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From a long and troubling way He falls upon sacred ground Among, old friends and foes Where he strolls Through the lingering haze of memory Night after night
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I’m ashamed of these emboldened stripes That constrict my frame Revealing, The immortal pulse of my sins
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How can you raise an army When the flare of your embattled voice Has been beaten into silence? Screaming, from your deepest lows Where few souls bear witness And dare, to entrench themselves How can you breathe the songs Of an awaited uprising When your voice trails away Constantly unanswered?
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I’m the coveted verse Among the chords of a demented love song Destined, to be shattered By a tireless dream
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Cling to your lucky stars To the stripes and banners abroad To the shades you favor Stay true, to the frayed outreach of a nation To the mantra of your distant home Then every fragment of yourself Is sure To fall In place Fill every faultline With the rolling and wondrous tales Of your bave…
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