... ...

I rake the air,
For the image now gone,
A faded memory,
An unknown treasure,
...

Why?
My human eyes gaze at the sky,
The Beauty imprisoned by the lie,
My tormented soul wishes to fly,
...

Of midday light and hues of splendor,
My heart has never known,
Of the laughs of men and the warmth of another,
I ponder untouched on the silent throne.
...

From a doubt,
Spirals up a snare of weakness,
From a fear,
Lashes out a vision of bleakness,
...

I hear the silent death of words yet to be uttered,
Seeping down the abysmal corridor of failed beauty,
Strangled by a constriction in my soul - a moment where none suffered,
Futile, this thought, already gone, faded away into yet another forgotten memory.
...

I knew a God, he never answered, so I left him definitely,
His silence stung, his words were empty, but there was a hole in me,
I called to man, I searched the heavens, I dreamed of lands, of love, of beauty,
But always silence, met my tears, my mind searched on frantically.
...

I cannot write.
The star is dead.
The poet in me returns to slumber.
So fleeting the instant, so silent the time,
...

Look into the mirror,
What can you truly see,
Is it a reflection of yourself,
Or is it reality?
...

Again, the pieces of my memory,
Have reunited to create this untold story,
Reflective beams of brilliant glory,
Paint the words that bloom from the mists of allegory.
...

Forgive me words,
Reject me heart,
The silence has not grieved,
The night still dulls,
...

You betrayed me once. You betrayed her before.
And you swore
That your life was sacred
You would threaten it - No more
...

We write to run, we write to fly,
To soar above the world,
We cry to feel, we cry to lie,
To escape the hidden sword.
...

She has gone
The moment passed
It was lost
So fast so fleeting so beautiful
...

I soared the skies and dipped betwixt hills,
I leveled mountain might with the strength of my will,
For none was greater than the lofty gaze,
Of the childish oath of old.
...

I wove the words
The forgotten ways
I spun a web
Of the memory's days
...

I am a broken soul who's strings can't sing
I am the humming-bird who's wings won't bring
I am the tired boy who dreamed of God
I am the deadened man who's eyes are dim
...

Through Dreams of Doom

Winter's Warmth did Bloom.
...

I surround all, even you,
Condemning liberty to fall, this lie,
My oblivion is a fatal sigh, their cry,
Cannot modify it's course, it's true,
...

A leaf I am,
Through currents incomprehensible,
Dead, the knowledge of my origin,
Severed from prior reality,
...

Fear of the indifference,
Hunger for aesthetic sense,
Wisdom in reiterance,
Failure in passions.
...