Stuart Logan

Far away,
Never knew.
How this love,
Could make me blue.
...

The satin heart beats with frenzied fire,
That melts away the pain.
The molded set of mirth and mire,
The dampened eternal rain.
...

Blackness shrouds the empty floor,
While shadows dance upon the door,
A memoriam of forgotten flaw,
Heart beating fast with eternal plight.
...

The moon, it now hangs freely,
Like a crystal ball among the trees.
I stand, waist deep in water,
Too much longer and I will freeze.
...

A sancrosanct decadence,
further than the maturities of the little ones.
I watch them run about,
Carefree,
...

Her hazel eyes sparkle with life,
Her brown hair, soft like silk.
I drink in her appearance,
So smooth like mother's milk.
...

A rose sits in the sand,
reflecting off the waves.
Left there by a man,
Whom, his love, could not be saved.
...

Sleeping in the car,
Lover by my idle side.
Sunset in the far,
Not worried about the ride.
...

Tigers roar,
In my mind,
An echo of a sacrosanct religion,
Lost to the ages.
...

I've had a wish fulfilled,
But all I want is more.
Forever I've been knocking,
upon my angel's door.
...

The twilight summer stars glitter above,
as they swing around the earth.
The sacred moon hangs over me,
and quietly casts a spell of heatwaves and light in the dark.
...

The Black Swan sighs,
As it glides across the inky water,
Like ice.
...

I sit upon the earthen floor,
Staring up at my first vision.
My true emotion revealed.
But as I Imprint,
...

Many wonder of Buddhism.
Christianity.
Paganism.
But many seem to assume that we have no control of our own destiny.
...

A Holden dusty ute,
Drives down the pitch black road.
The subtle engine mute,
Above the stones he strode.
...

The white light floats,
Above my head.
Sitting like,
A spool of thread.
...

A beautiful night,
A beautiful girl,
by my side.
We sit.
...

In the victored mountains high,
Among the wild ashen oaks.
Three demon men plan evil deeds,
Under twilight cloaks.
...

Eyes watch me,
Like a pulpit lord,
Commanding the verses,
With an onmipotent force.
...

Torn between a rock and a hard place,
I lay in my bed,
Wondering.
Pondering.
...