Tag: art

destiny

Words settle like dust upon my soul
Written well before my heart’s
Awakening, engraved while yet this
Life of mine was but a song
Of songbirds in the sky
I am but a walking verse
Lips and tongue describe me
As bards cherished the tales they’ve sung,
This epic, so long ago begun,
Takes root now, growing inside the warmth
Of fate’s sweet sun, as I tarry off to grow
Within my destiny….

There’s nothing left to question, the tale
Is already spun… what is now is but a
Task to walk upon the road
And fulfill the feats designed for me.

regret

it’s a sad resolution
this end of year mess
this nightmare that has no waking relief
this wound that has no dress
i am but a sailor adrift at sea
i am but a boat with no anchor
floating invisibly
what will happen to this heart of mine
when the cold winter blows though
the tattered halls of what once stood strong
there is nothing left for me
there is nothing left to see
sorrow and regret dogging days
with cold remorse
and hate
and tears that fall as cold as frozen rain
oh life! you can be cruel, i know
and i am nothing more than a joke
drifting off the shore

fly

Weary, i put my head down for
Just a moment
And close my eyes
The light, too far away for me to see,
Lingers just on the edges of my exhaustion
And while my heart’s wings have spread
Into a beautiful gossamer waves,
I fight to keep up with the sounds
Of echoes that follow me..
Grateful for all that flows within,
My eyes close and restively
Wait for the next opportunity to fly

Fuzzy visitor

It’s as if music in some far off
Distant place is playing,
And all I can hear are echoes
Ringing and buzzing within my head-
Oh! to hear this music presently
And to feel the deep sound…
My heart jumps in adulation of a
Celebration I am but a fuzzy visitor for

races

i am floating within a dream;
boxes of memories,
compartmentalized and ordered….
i soar above and recall
all the feelings packed
into those little square spaces-
in, but not of, my soul remains
inexplicably connected to each
sorted row, where space and time
meet, where the interface explodes;
i am but a traveler, meandering
down and upon these dusty roads.
i am a fly that scurries in the autumnal winds
waiting for inevitability; fleeting such,
is the way of life-
this dream and i, creating boxes of time;
and i am not afraid of what’s to come-
for within these folds of order,
any race to be had, has already been won

silenced now

i’ve nothing left to spill from this soul;
i’m but a ghost,comprised of dust,
and what may have flowed from
my heart and fallen from my lips
is silenced now-
emptiness fills the spaces that once
breathed life to words,
and feeling to the thoughts within
my tattered soul…
silence remains like dirt upon a
lonely road, oh! this quiet
that invades me, pervades me,
torturous and true-
when will you leave me in peace
to find my inspiration again?
lost and drifting i am but a traveler
with no home

demon

The air thickens inside
Just behind the door
It’s been closed for years now
A demon lives behind it
She has my face
And certainly my smile
But she’s bleeding
And she won’t show it
And she sits quietly
Plotting revenge
And muttering to herself
Sometimes when I try to sleep
She scratches at my memory
Reminding me that she’s still there
Behind that door
Breathing that thick air
Waiting for me to release her
Upon my heart