David Zvekic Poems

What chains shackle hope to the joys of another,
  But inure my soul to the state I there find?
What tear driven dreams bear the faith of no other?
  Such shattered thoughts wrestle my bewildered mind.
...

Eating, rotting, wretched and despised,
Taken slowly from arms.
All cherished things gone.
Why not take clothes,
...

Profess! In these give fortunes seldom chance,
when words aver with love's last whispered power,
that wonted life give fear over romance,
and shames ignite each hell's forbidden hour.
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Beyond the valley far below,
Where glory of a spring's fell bloom
Did flourish as wild flowers know
Such music heard from lovers' room: -
...

So long it seems, since music played euphonic chords for passion's muse,
Composed that true loves' words should wear, and gentle souls amuse;
For evermore those songs would bear the notes I'll never use.
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Of fairest winds unheard but for your sighs,
Of moons not held to reach your gentle hand,
'Twixt glimpses caught within our star-filled eyes,
The dreams we shared, we didn't understand.
...

Sing still, O dream! My angel o'er my mind,
Of happiness that sorrow's muse concealed;
Of wings these broken dreams have left behind.
A promise wrought of life we dared not find,
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No hope nor dream did yield its fruit while others reigned above it;
Whose masters deemed to crush the will of those who dared not love it.
The farce that we would call 'free will' - the will to do as told:
No choice to live this - my own life - in unchained hands to hold.
...

Tho' losses long pushed man to drink,
For reading loud his slip of pink,
Despaired he not, but paused to think,
Aye you'll agree:
...

If I could fly away with you I would:
  We'd breach the sky beyond where currents flow,
  Above the highest nimbus ever stood,
  I'd fly you where all tear drops turn to snow.
...