Troubled, tired, unsure of what to do,
Confused about religion and promises of this world.
Looked for answers for my dying soul, so blue,
Like stepping out a sphere that had been just twirled.
Loud I cried, but no words could break out,
Amid the crowd, a voiceless Ghost.
Driven by misery, I found myself on the lonely route,
Burned by the sun like one left to roast.
No strength left, I felt face down on the sand,
Nothing but silence I heard, thought I cross the living world.
Then I felt as if the Living Light took me by the hand,
Whispered into my ears “…It’s time to unfold”.
Freedom I sensed, life became anew,
Courage I gained, my mind was at ease,
Peace I found, I felt so true,
I deprived of it all to be led by the Breeze.
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 8:49 AM UTC
Take me to that place
Where all are worried free
Filled with warmth and abundant grace
And everyone is meant to be
Take me to that place
Where love flows through the air
By the look within each embrace
A load, yet light, none can compare
Take me to that place
Where the world spins hectic
Loneliness, a complete disgrace
Like shadow, tense and electric
Take me to that place
With ocean waves in view
Romance is born in every trace
And side by side, they walk as two
Take me to that place
With ancient shrines so near
That feed the soul with wisdom's base
And guide us back to those once dear
This place I tell the world
A thirst-quenching waterfall
To be apart it's to be hurled
From a cliff, down to a great fall
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 8:49 AM UTC
Day versus night and hope versus despair,
Born to live, live to die, die to relive.
Came from the last fear not this world of care;
Still striving towards the life yet unlive’.
Autumn leaves must fall; undone lies the past.
Unfading scents, frozen hearts come to life,
Hope’s endless tide makes fleeting passion last;
Be the heroes of time as in the strife
Fate has no beginning and knows no end,
And still the souls heedlessly await her.
Behind the curtain haze sets to descend
A sweet thereafter or endless torture.
Time stops at nothing, but it dies for love,
And memories forever share thereof.
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 8:48 AM UTC
I. Death of the Phoenix
Dear Mama
Falling stars, moonlight dark, red torches spread
Ere dawn of day, far over river deep
When in the lads the dares of fancy fame
Oft they quested to waking fortunes’ sleep
Sweet aroma of summer breath afar
Soft waving hair and likeness sunny guise
And stillness in the gaze like ocean hues
‘Twas lambent Pearl, the radiant crown ‘neath skies
‘O rose of blues slowly drained the silent seas
When looting’s Muse had wed the maiden Pride
That raged against the rising of the sun
To fall and fall in servitudes denied
Down empty streets where humble stations stood
Though heads bowed down, the broken wills undone
Hailed supple hopes, but midst the hopes, avowed
The oppressed bride and aim that cannot run
Ah, the sky is clear, Oh, the mourning doves
Out of the seas came out the knightly steeds
With faces stained red and blue, rode amain
The crimson shores of those in wants or needs
Then came the billows’ mists o’er unrest land
With thunders’ roar and freezing cold decades
Lone in despair, no Beacon, close or far
Alas! Alas! The unloved lost in fades
‘O gleeful hymn once roamed untrodden grounds
Beyond the gates of wraths and shades and fears
Now skims the air whilst nightingales diffuse
Lest fetter to wills of avarice’s Peers
‘O swirling darkness, drowning bleakness state
Like waves of tears that burst from heart of ache
On pyre of flame delight, by now grows dim
Consumes with shameful scorns, doze unawake
‘O woe betide my dream and I
My aim, my soul, my credo die
Your Dying Daughter
II. The Phoenix Shall Re-Rise
My Beloved Child
Let heav’n light rest upon twin rivulets
And cast returning glow on worried cheek
Let lively hope return sweet virtuousness
And stop the weeping weep of small and weak
Whence softly rave the words the leafy grasped
Whilst few amid rich flowers, woods, and fields
Summoned daydreams in oppressed sleeps to wake
In painful stoic with neither swords nor shields
Methinks if this had happened not, perchance
That beauty rare would echo still in tune
And wits like wings in varied raptures ‘d fly
With idle dread ‘til reach the waning moon
By the placid Rivers, like ores of rare
That made the riverbeds mirroring sun
The crafty trails, the vermeil meadow pawns
Where hostages to priceless glints had fun
Ponder awhile on those invective Streams
When weary hopes sought access into soul’
Which knew no moist, but moist of falling tears
Arose amid sweet rainy boon parole
‘O brave Angel to whom the homage paid
When shades of freedom, death, unity, strength
Aloft the hills, albeit the odds were few
‘Til resilience and prowess at full length
‘O silent mute on which misery lies
The brazen proud, the humble roots stretch still
Whose keen presence the flood and storm esteem
So firm and deep, anon to aims fulfill’
Tree that blooms from river blood, time is nigh
For solitude that hides near shimming lake
To burst aflame from remnants of the now
Like phoenix sunned in ashen dust awake’
Oh, then, I’ll dream that dream once dreamt
That latest dream few've ever dreamt
Love Ma
III. One Moon
Dear Beacons
Come midnight ghosts that slide along the yards
Call exiled forth, and haggle for their quests
Where leering eyes at nightfall gate ignore
Arising slain yearn newness’ lives abreast
From tortuous routes and wave to wave to shores
Where skies no longer bright and glad deceive
No gentle fair nor answers to hold dear
When pride depressed to swirling hopes believe
Relume the gold of havens found
Cast shadow aping’s frowns to ground
Then, from sweet unrest, twilight world will rouse
To peaceful fields, and cool of breezy night
O’er which clouds float and run, whilst dancing stars
Adorn. And lo, the moon is full and bright
Amor Fati,
Alkebulan
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 8:47 AM UTC
Over hill on a golden afternoon,
Down thro’ the wooden dales, where lights succumb,
Wondered when Stars wink at the Moon,
To shame the Sun and hearts benumb.
At last, the night! Alas
The peep of owls, so flash,
The squeal of ghosts, so brash,
And shadows gather mass.
Old whispers stir, unkind,
Through mist and hollow wind...
Avaunt! Wild beast deform’d…
In silence loud, the former praises sound.
Nola, lone, she forbore beneath the Stars,
With timeless strength on cold playground,
Glanced swiftly at their Wiles, and roars
Reverberate… While the storm
Came dancing in the frame of Flurry East,
When deep into her pools so brilliant, prowl
A chilling sight of restless beast,
Screaming, each on hill, sad jovial howl
At Moon, aboon the norm.
Premeditatio Malorum
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 8:47 AM UTC
Sweet was the ancient tale once told,
Of star-born realms and skies above,
When primal hearts, though proud and bold,
Still held the thread of love.
From rose-hued lands where dreamers grew,
No scorn arose, nor warlike word.
‘Twixt cultures old, the wise and true
A gentle peace was heard.
The sea lay calm, the waves moved slow,
While birds sang high on salted air.
The stars, the moon, and myths below
Drew hearts with gentle care.
When Orpheus, with lyre in hand,
Could charm the trees and still the shore,
He sang not just of death’s dim land,
But love that dared for more.
And songs poured out, both wide and bright,
Unbound by ticking clocks or schemes.
A joy unspoiled by neon light
Still stirs in silent dreams.
No noise, no screen, no hollow glow,
Just fireside tales and open skies
A world less fast, yet rich to know,
Where wonder met the eyes.
But now, a broken engine hums,
Where whispers clash and meanings blur.
Though minds are fed, the heart succumbs
In dreamy shadows stir.
This modern sprawl, in steel-clad guise,
Sees freedom drown and ruins swell.
While gilded dame with cunning eyes,
Buys silence, sells the shell.
Sweet childhood homes that most recall,
Still mourn the loss of treasured views.
While elders chase the siren’s call,
The Futures drown in hues.
O bitter jest, this march of mind,
That trades the soul for hastened days.
Where hearts and minds are redesigned
By profit’s clever maze.
Progress cloaked where truths are wrung
May blind the heart and charm the tongue;
But in the hush, old songs are sung
Still bold, still clear, still young.
Naturae consors esto
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 8:47 AM UTC