Let's PlayLet's play we're on a stalwart ship,Fighting with swords and laughing at youth.Let's play we're not growing up,That we're too mature for games and untruth.Let's play we're not in love,Glancing into each other's eyes.Let's play we're not yet married,Responsibly weaving our ties.Let's play we're as young as our child,Who grows faster than we do.Let's play our child is still here,Not grown apart from me and you.Let's play we're not growing old,Weak and nostalgic for old times,When we were children of a stalwart ship,Fighting with swords and laughing at youth,In the time of fairy tales and nursery rhymes.
The AbsentIt goes on, like a top always turning,The day always blinding; except to us.The world still spins while we are static.The sun still shines but not on our brows.Memories vanish as grass grows above usLife passes by in a flash without us.Yells and shouts contrast to our silence;A silence no one will pause for.A silence of the absent.
Self DestructionAll is burningA city sackedA heart of stoneShattered finallyInto rubble and ash.All is grief and piningAs tears go adrift;Lost in a sea of thirstWithout an anchor,No hope and no prayer.All past remorse emerges,Piercing into fevered skin;One who avoids chancesWith the goal of winningCan only find loss.All is destroyedBy a burning passionThat turned destructive,And left but dustOn a fire-eaten skeleton.A subtle rainLike loving balmAs a restorative would heal,But for the burning embers:Witnesses to the bereft, cheated, charred.No deliverance. No redemption.Only scorched remains.
Unanswered PleaIt is- one dayA sweet embraceBefore the biteOf a bitter sword.It is- the waitingFor an answerTo a questionWithout words.It is- all liesOf shallow daysBefore the painOf knowing truth.It is- a screamInside your soulBetraying silenceOf the mute.When facts run dryAnd all is hushed,There is only a heart-beat;A lonely soundBeneath an oppressive quiet.All that lingersIs a hopeless image:A pair of eyes that won't answer;A burned regretReplacing all in sight.
DesertWhere storms and iceAnd wind and rainBlew in upon a torrid plane,A restless spirit reined the placeWhere silence breaks,Where light gives pain.What fate awaited the flowers and treesAnd all the good worth saving;It left the barren earth alone,Faced with death and grieving...Over a silent plane bereft of peaceWhere all the good was leaving.The tempest raged like wild vengeanceTill the will lost all its strength;A deadly calm fell on empty length,And all was deafened silence.No more storms could ravage,There was nothing left to rage;For hell destroyed like an illnessAll left the stillness of the grave.
The Storm's ConsequencesI am thereAny day where there are storms.Anywhere where there are no flowers.The angry storms washed me awayThe once-vibrant now are dead.I am the flower that was springI was the grass, I was the song to sing.I longed to flower, to prosper and grow,Despite the heavy rain and snow.I wanted seclusion from those little girlsWho love to pick flowers just for pleasure.Now life's against the wind;And dawn has darkened into dusk.In this game of life the power is givenNot to the flower, but to the storm.