Soren Valentine Poems
An Old Tree
An old tree stands by the edge of a cliff,
awaiting, awaiting the waters to lift.
The waves he cherishes like God's gift,
but through weeds and mountains he must first sift.
Lonely, pleading like a beggar,
he looks to the sea and wishes to tell her
to raise her waters with a good will,
so he could stand alone in the Home of Thrill.
An old tree stands alone on a hill,
forsaken and abandoned, he slowly dies,
as he watches the world's ages fall into a ghyll,
he sets his heart to where the sea-nymph cries.
In mimicry of the sea-nymph's tears, ...
No More And Forever
My heart wishes to beat no more.
My lungs refuse to take in air anymore.
My kidneys, why should they keep on serving me?
Let them find a new master!
What is the point of living when my life is fraught with shame?
I have wrought the hollowness in me; I have become the son of death.
O! Hypaethral Temple of mine, how I wish you were domed.