I was ****** in this life,
where I’m nothing but a cloud.
I was happy being a star.
Now thunder drums out loud.
Don’t blow. Stop the wind.
I’m fading, mad at you.
Shouldn’t have brought me back.
I was as good as a dying soul…
I’m nothing but a beautiful lie.
I’m nothing but a snap of your fingers.
I’m nothing but a silent cry.
I’m nothing but a new mist that lingers.
Out of me each flower is plucked.
Out of me each breath is ******
Is that what you wanted most?
Back from dead, now life has struck.
Don’t blow. Stop the wind.
I’m fading, mad at you.
Shouldn’t have brought me back.
I was as good as a dying soul…
I’m nothing but a beautiful lie.
I’m nothing but a snap of your fingers.
I’m nothing but a silent cry.
I’m nothing but a new mist that lingers.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
With a heart so cold, with a tongue so harsh,
Only your view is your relief.
And the kids you killed, tell me just one thing,
Were they, too, rebels of your beliefs?
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
O mother!
It is I, I your son.
I never did outrun
the death waiting for me.
Destiny, Martyr to be…
O mother!
I thought of you only
when javelins pierced me.
The memory of your eyes.
Had made me smile in disguise.
O mother!
I lay there helplessly.
My friends could not help me.
But your prayer was enough.
It kept helping me stay tough.
O mother!
The blood kept boiling out.
I let out a low shout.
It was your blood after all,
ran off me like waterfall.
O mother!
With final hiccup I
drowned into darkest sky.
Now I’m sure you’re proud of me.
I know I made you happy.
O mother!
Is this not what you want?
Is it not what you crave?
Your martyr is taking your
Guidance with him to his grave.
O mother!
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 1:39 AM UTC
Behold her eyes burning with tears.
In place of him is now his gun.
Her heart sinks whatever comes near,
for she has lost her son.
Along she works for everyone,
who’s fatherless like her grandson.
She takes nothing but gives and gives.
And cares for everything that’s his.
No wonder none’s as proud as she.
But also bears the ache in heart.
It’s almost fine but it’s no glee.
She is wrecked from the start.
The battlefield that snatched her son.
Remembers every scar and burn.
Smiles when the son of her son asks
to give up his life with no masks.
She lets him go, lets him go too.
She stares at his back as he leaves.
Falls with weakness, everything’s blue.
Lost everything but grieves.
Her hair goes gray, the tale gets old.
Grandson’s gone too, that’s left is cold.
She thinks back to the choice she made.
She’d thought wrong of it being an aid.
But life goes on and then death comes.
The peaceful sleep goes on and on.
No hurt, no pain, no thunder drums.
Every lament is gone.
She’s in the grave and so the men.
She’s proud of them and smiles again.
A soldier son is no regret.
She’s a proud mother with no’one left.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC