Time will sweep the seas aside
And dry the wistlful shore,
But I'll stay here for you my dear,
And count the graves of war.

I thought for a month the moon would never return,
But as young as I am, I still have much to learn
White light piercing black veiled skies,
What a sight, for a widower in paradise!
Vision, gentle now with this glory bright,
Death may shake the earth but I'm steady in flight.

I let go too slow,
Then I cut them quick
And bled the pieces of my heart
that were them,
And have been a part of me for so long.

I hate to see them go,
I really do.

I feel like we are two halves of a whole:

You are boastful,
I am bashful,

You are confidence,
I am innocence,

You are regretfulness
I am forgiveness.

However, we are of equal understanding
And know the path taken by the other half
And we understand the other half
And respect his chosen path.

A few more words written on a page, taken from my mind and thrown out into the open for approval or rejection. What do I care? Some praise for a moment; maybe a few faithful minds to ease my fear. What do I care of who cares? Why should I? Will it mean a thing years from now? Probably not, though I may never know for sure. Sometimes it seems so worth it, and other times I can't remember why I ever thought it was.

Where has the time gone;
Why aren’t the days as long;
Where did all the laughter go;
Why do memories seem sweet from long ago,
Wherewith shorter time passed are not so?

Why did the dreams become so lecherous;
Where are the days that were adventurous;
Why has innocence lost its allure;
Where is the field of flowers so pure,
Why, nothing could give hope an aperture?

Where has the sunshine gone so bright;
Why has the moon forgotten my night;
Where has my innocence been taken;
Why must time left me forsaken,
Where a Dead Boy can never awaken?

Why do we yearn for a silent cry;
Where is the child with the spark his eye;
Why has all the magic died for me;
Where is the awe of curiosity,
Why has the world grown bleak to see?

Where can I find all I miss once more;
Why is it lost, so quickly been forbore;
Where comes that blissful echo;
Why is it so familiar, shall I never know,
Where it comes and the happiness it show?


Once passed, never to return;
Oh, how I wish to relearn,
And I try to see and feel,
I try to keep alive the unreal,
But with every day it slips further away,
As days cross over, closer to the Ferryman, and a penny to pay.

Someday, I wish to have my love for you written completely;
Someday, I'll write no more because I've written all I can,
But I'll write until my weary pen is dry, not of my inability,
Because it would take all of time to write all for you, and time again.

There is not enough words, nor enough time to express;
Though try may I with eighty-nine letters of love,
Still incomplete, and insignificant I must confess,
In the shadows of your beauty from the heavens above.

Stella shines for me still, every night still;
Guide my hand and confirm my affect,
And forevermore, I follow Stella's will,
As I see her in your eyes in waters reflect.

And here is another endless verse from my loving heart:
A call to your's, a line on the shore, to pull when apart.

All the answers lie within
All your questions will be answered in time
With a sudden moment of realization
And a catharsis beautifully written

Your story will end in peace
When you rest your head after the long journey home
And reflect on the past you created for yourself
The Question: What it right?
The answer is a resounding yes.
Because a regretful no will never change.

A crown of thistles and thorns,
Worn as I walk through the Wasteland
Carrying my burdens and hope on my shoulders
The noon light and the twilight.

Step and another forward forever
Into my now broken journey ahead
Footing the edge of the final ledge
Final steps filled with regret —
Or could it be hope?

My Passion is dark from my view;
Somehow, I shine as a Beacon
To the hopeless and the desperate,
The hearts that are broken by fate.

String me up now before I destroy them all,
All along with myself, in my pain.
I was meant to be this way,
To die while I’m still pure.

My bitter victory makes you ever sweet.

I lost something within you,
Radiant, high-handed sea!
A loss so great and true,
I cannot let it be.

Great heart of mine, stolen,
When I sail first your deep blue,
Winds had pulled my bowline,
And filled my sails anew.

And as the sea winds whipped
The heart you took of mine,
The bow had sharply tipped,
Against horizon line.

I merely skim the surface
Of your lovely darkened deep,
Search without a trace,
For my heart you hide and keep.

Everyday I leave the shore,
Cast off into the sea,
And with the journeys more and more,
You become the heart of me.

In all the vastness of the sea of stars we are all alone
The cold and barren winter valley
Is our only home
I travelled far across dunes of sand
In search of people like you and me
Sailed the seas in search of land
But I searched forever endlessly.

We found each other, two of a kind
Never a third we'll ever find
But you walked away without a breath
And in the end there was nothing left.

The wind still caresses my now weary face
Same wind that carries sand, snow, and sets seas adrift
Harsh gale or a soft breeze grace
It makes me feel again all I missed.

I've lived a dream
Now let me live a memory.

I desire, and I long for the past.

The present is lonely, always fleeing,
Leaving people and good moments so quickly;
Leaving only memories behind to regress over time,
But the past never forgets, holding tight to the smile on her face, and her eyes as they gazed into mine with love;
The present has forgotten her, but the past never will,
All those perfect memories; all the precious moments,
Dead in the present, but live in the past. Always.

The Atlantic blue, the wonderful shine
Skies pristine, caress the horizon line
Beautiful shore, with sands of gold
Crashing sound of the waves as they roll'd

Reeds of green grass to hide the rest
Behind me I forget the land unbless'd
But it's not all bad, and it never is
For without the land the sea can't exists

I'll stay until the sunset, I'll gaze upon the scene
Taking in all I can and leaving behind my dreams
For next time when I visit, I'll live them whole
When I cast off the shore, into the ocean's soul

It will be something more in the morning light
But for now it's for enjoyment, the stars of night
And when the sea is silent, the sirens will weep
A lament to my heart; the new child of the deep

My journey goes far across the starlit sea
With my dreams and memories my company
But still with little time away from land
The night ends with my feet firm in the sand

Reborn with the beautiful break of the day
Well-rested and at peace with all you say
My Ocean, I long for your cathartic embrace
As I gaze the horizon with sea winds in my face.

Don't pick up only when the sun shines;
And don't fall with the pouring rain.

For every night you shall not lay down;
And for the day you should not wake.

Shall you cry, may it be of choice;
And smile no more than it pleases you.

The laws are not all set in stone;
Let sorrow bring you solace, and the departing road bring you home.

For us, with calming winds came late,
     we know not their pain;
The seas and tides had taken care
     not even left a stain—
Of all the broken things there were,
     I still have yet to see one;
But veldts of green and daffodils,
     in which to play and run—
They say to me in a whisper soft,
     “Do not dwell on us below."
So we dance among the fields above
     those forgotten long ago.

If love may be thy sweet rose;
If love may be truly sweet,
As the perfect flower grows
In the garden, how may I greet?

As a budding rose yet to unfold,
Would thy love not be true,
If as somehow it will be bold,
And blossom not red, but blue?

I will never gaze thy rose’s shade,
Lest I tend with care for now;
I take care thy rose and wade,
Until her blooming petals show:

I shall greet her with the same affect;
As with budding roses, love I can't detect.

The blood drips from her hand
It seeps into the depths of the page
Soaking like ink the runs red and
Dulling cold with emotionless rage.

A young soul tortured old
She lets it bleed without care
Quivering hand, fingers unfold
Written all, she rests back to chair.

A midnight chime, days have cross'd
Same words of mine, "I loved and lost!"


         I've pondered in dark twilight hours
         What has been written on the page
         But unlike the falling, wilted flowers
         The passionless words never age.

Black windows
Black skies
And blacker shadows
Cast by your silhouette

I see your death a thousand times
During the sleepless nights of mine
So much it's grown to be a part of me
So much that my eyes only sorrow see

You carry on, drifting through my void memory
Like a ghost walking in the aftermath of tragedy
Until there is nothing left but you
And I am shades of black through and through.

Late night car rides,
Empty pints of *****,
A one-night ecstacy,
With a heartbreak dawn:

She shows her shallows,
As if they're great depths;
A cry of sorrow? Honey,
You ain't seen nothing yet.

She's not an open book,
She's just a bookmark type of personality.
Stuck between the pages of something more interesting,
Like a catalog or a Cosmo magazine.

Oh, she's always just caught between someone's pages,
With bits and pieces of their's stories rubbing off on her,
But them words don't look the same tattooed on her, oh no.

So stop pretending you're the deepest sea,
Your pretentious crap never fooled me.

When the snow melts away,
What is there beneath it?
Fresh blades of grass stay
As a renewal on life is lit;
A new beginning, but a sad one.
Where did the wonder go?
The awe that filled my heart: gone.
Where's the magic I used to know?

My years gone by,
They've made me forget
Regretfully I sigh
I can't feel it even yet.

What has happened to my heart?
Have I lost my love for life?
Am I missing my soul in part?
When did I lose my sight?

I hold this moment tight in my mind
For I don't trust it to eternally last;
If I let go now, never again will I find
That magic of the moment that fades so fast.

Why don't you tell me why
you don't feel anymore?
before you go cold, look in my eyes
open up to me once more.

Beautiful,
I see your beauty through the pain
From keeping yourself locked in cold,
What is there anymore to gain?
When all you had has grown old.

Nightingale,
fly closer to me
on silver wings sail
Sing me a perfect melody
Under a moon so pale.

Mermaid,
Swim closer to me
In the waters where I wade
paint me a scape of the sea
with colours that never fade.

Angel Ghost,
take my soul
Show me a dream of mine
Being my imagination full
take me to another time.

Saddened Poet,
Write me your life of sorrow
Give me a reason to write this rhyme
At least until the light of tomorrow.

Ruined Warrior,
Let me hear your cries
Your tears soak the earth below my feet
Reveal your sadness complete; show me your eyes.

All bare their own burdens
None ever the same
But all are equally burdened
So carry on through the pain.

When the lonely arctic winds blew into the lands of Cathartica, it cast the Earth into an endless barren winter. The selfish winds were ruthless, leaving all that was life in despair. With no end in sight, Cathartica’s hope died.
In the early birth of another cold winter’s day a boy lies on a bed of fresh fallen snow, surrounded by the sleeping trees. The wind whips his cold face and his blood, dripping from the blade of his knife, freezes in the snow. The last breath he takes: soft and pure. He goes with his spirit and his heart as it seeps from his mortal tomb. The wind carries him through the bare, winter woodland, breezing past the stiff branches of the tired trees, and over the icy lakes. As the wind continues to carry him over the white lands of Cathartica, the endless winter season dies with him, for it could not bear the warmth of his soul, and with his death the world comes to life once more.
The arctic winds, after that day, never returned to Cathartica. The cold: imprisoned by the sacrificed dead boy’s soul; the protector of the wild lands. The body would lay through the seasons, untouched. For years, unmoved and unchanged, as life grows up all around it. The body’s wounds would be healed, but the boy will never return. He will stay forever in his lonely immortal form — keeping the wicked winds away — for the sake of Cathartica.

These words they cannot be rewritten to bright beat the minds of pop culture fiends
Against the steel wall of the infinite Hollywood signs, dripping blood,
Until the creative mind is bled dry.

Then working the street corners to pay the corporate copies far too much for a strip tease by a fat transvestite, night after night;
But we never realize there is no end,
No end to the ***** **** being shoved down our throats —
Though we think there will be a ***** at the end;
Except there's just ***** hair stuck in our teeth,
And along the way we've forgotten what it is like to have an empty mouth,
Without **** coming out of our mouth and *******,
Such that now it feels right.

Look up at the man in a suite holding the camera,
Like the attention you get from the broken world. 

One man ***-***** another then gets ***-****** himself;
Then bumped further in by a third,
Till the world is united by **** and *******.

My soul, my soul,
You have taken a toll;
Weathered through the years,
And the heartbreak tears.

The marks have to all turned to scars,
You can forget all the fun times riding in cars;
It's alright, you can open your eyes,
And watch the morning sun rise.

Forget where you were yesterday,
And try it all again today;
Love will meet you,
Eventually, love will meet you.

There went the day,
Wasted away so happily —
How I struggled to love her,
As she loved me even more.

We'd talk about meaningless things,
It made me happy, but only for a moment —
Maybe I needed that escape,
But I always think too much and make a mess of things.

I can't let simple things be simple,
That's just how I am.

The place is not important nor is the time
When it comes down to it, it's only you and me
The simplicity of that cannot be embellished
You and me, that's all it will ever be.

Even still, as I lie still, and realize the tragedy
And the things I can't seem to regret take
When I can't ever see my pathetic fallacies
And I try to change for your own sake.

Especially when it will always ever be
The simplest solution to you is me.

On the night that conscience falls, we will be at peace, my friend. When it falls, the stars will be in our hearts, shooting us out into oblivion. Ourselves, we, you and me — it will be our greatest moment, and our worst pain altogether. When conscience falls from ourselves, the world will fall with it straight into our palms.

They talk oh how they talk about life,
Pleasant contentment in their laughs,
Carefree pleasantries, their words as they breathe.
And yet, I am elsewhere in another time and place,
Tapping the keys on the keyboard which play the strings of my heart,
And I imagine their heartbeat with mine,
I feel their connection with one another - that is my connection.
And at the same time I think big thoughts about the universe, the stars, the expanse of disorder,
And also, their conversation which slows my mind.

Listening to the rhythm and human intonation of their speech: A casual lull hitting the seas of infinite chaos.

Oh sweet Cordell, I stand by your grave
In autumn leaves, with blood you gave

Colder it seems, the winds that blow
As you're buried deeper, first fallen snow

Sweetness of the summer orchids fade
And with the fragrance, down you laid

I'll bare the winter your death has brought
Despite the frigid dark days it wrought

Cordell, whilst you lay in peace
Your frozen beauty has ne'er ceased

Burdened me with sweet memory
I'll gladly keep, if you wait for me.

Cordell, too sweet to tell you,
I'm on the road to the places you've been before.

I see you in a sentimental way,
Through landmarks I've memorized.

I saw you as the thoughts faded away,
And imagined great adventures if you were here today.

Cordell, your flower wilts evermore,
Within the chasms of my spiraling mind.

You stole the cadence of my heartbeat:
Your dead blood flowing through me.

And when we meet again at the crossroads later in life
Looking at one another in awe of the scars of our strife
Unrecognizable from the innocence we once reflected in one another
We cannot go back to those sweet youthful days of our past
They will remain the longing echo of our footsteps as we walk on
Away from each other, best friend.

Every day people astound me and I don’t know why.
They’ll astound me util the day i die. Why?
Don’t get me wrong, but where are the important people,
I wouldn’t know one if I met one. I’ve never met one.
But they’d be all that much more special if one appears to me ever.
I thought I found one once, then twice, and a third time, but before long they fell to ruin under the weight of themselves, they were abnormal and reality was normal, always clashing, and crashing, and bashing heads with each other.
I cry, oh how I cry for them to come back to reality where I am trapped. I see their reality and they do not. I wish I was like them. I wish I couldn’t see their faults and mine. As I slip away and their eyes glazed with rose pedals, I let out a shout! “Take me!” but their grins grow wide with sweet eyes and they drink my tears while I cry for them. I am sunk like a forlorn ship in the storm long ago. Like the sorrow they write about, I am that reality without readers. Unbeautifully broken. My story is worth not their hearts.

My eyes still close dreaming of you.

The first bird sings its melody
As the sun rise slowly brings the day
The bird sings for its beauty
With the suns first blissful ray.

The tulips bloom out of darkness
The grass crisp with morning dew
The signs of natures wakefulness,
the old of yesterday, new.

This moment if not perfect
Is the closest thing to
As all life does resurrect
And live on though and through.

And these fleeting moments may be rare
But that is why I must take care.

The dying day
and the newborn night
take me across the way.

I stop my heart
at temptations edge
learning down at the abyss.

I see all that I love
from days gone by
reaching for the light above.

Slowly come to life
resurrect from the grave
of memory, but still
it's all a haze.

I've asked questions that should not have answers,
And have dreamt they were never real.
I've fallen in love with ideas
Too perfect to ever feel.
My impossible expectations
Of moments I cannot steal;
Chilling, life, what day is it?
Will I ever make a sound?

Link to Music: https://soundcloud.com/david-leger-1/deep-dark-symphony-1

I left the shore and with my memories
Traveled far from forlorn fantasies
The sea winds sailed me into waters deep
All the future and past I weep

Abandoned my pen in shame
Silent deep words lost in vane
A dying poet without a name
And nothing but the sea remains

Drifting on endlessly through dreamworlds and the sea
I see a meadow a scene that comforts me
Warm winds breeze in the rye and golden wheat
There my heart will take its final beat

I yearn to grace the shore of Elysian Fields
Gilded beaches, warm sunsets yield
But the sea winds howl my deep dark symphony
Dreams that only my death can set free

"And I forgive the sea
For all it's done to me
It is my home,
My grave forevermore
As the tides take me under, deeper down."

Horrid memories carved in stone
Waves can never wash away
Tortured souls that died alone
Ghost still haunt the seabed graves

Drown all hope drown all grace
Drown in past you never faced
Sins that cloud the poet’s sea
Storms rage for eternity

The albatrosses fly over
The deep dark ocean, left Cliffs of Dover
And the poet's dreams of paradise
Reborn from his sacrifice

And the symphony still plays on
Melody for those lost at sea
Heartborne poets final song
Sailing fast to Elysian Shores

“My symphony begins at the end of all love and loss."

A silent sea, reflecting me at eventide;
Oh how I miss the water’s caress,
Flowing over my skin like silken dress.

The Ocean Queen, in Her depths I’ll confide,
I’ll swim deep with Her by my side,
Letting my fears sink into Her vastness.

Walking along the desolate seashore,
Hand in hand with the breeze,
I think of you and the last we spoke,
Exchanging farewell pleasantries;

The road I walk now along,
Winding with the golden strand,
Palisades of rocky cliffs, you'd love to see,
As I muse and grasp your ghostly hand.

Though you're not beside me,
You walk this path and gaze this shoreline;
For all seas converge, all roads diverge,
And all distances vanish with time.

I am right and wrong,
I fill my glass with poison,
And fall asleep with my clothes on.

So many things I tried to be,
Me: software version 20.2.23,
Trying to prefect what they see.

Tomorrow I'll try once more,
Step outside that bedroom door,
Stand amid the deafening roar.

I acquired an old typewriter today,
Someone was just giving it away;
All the letters it must have written—
what love stories it's told...

I can now write the stories I see,
All the letters sit perfect in front of me,
But the ink dries more with each second gone by;
Write, ******! Write!
      I can't (sigh).

Like two ships that pass in the night
We see one another for only a moment
And in that time, under the pale moonlight
When you speak with angelic atonement
I never want the night to end
I want time frozen in twilight bliss
From your lips: the remedies mend
My heart; saves me with a kiss.
I will hold on forever and wait for you
The unique feeling you give me
Makes every expressed emotion new
Like opening a chest to which you are the key
And everything I may ever be lies somewhere in the depths of your eyes
And the words I'm afraid to say: hidden beneath this longing sigh.

Writers, writers, writers,
And not so many readers.
Who do we write for now,
With more creators than feeders?

Over used ideas
And under used thought;
Creating for creators —
Crap, there are a lot.

"Like this!
Like me!
Like us for what we are!
Our originality!"

We all make crap.
Just some are better at polishing;
While what's good we end up abolishing.

Why?
Why are we afraid to write from our hearts?
Why do we hide away our love and truth from the world?
Us who are afraid to sell out —
We are the true artists, but so full of doubt.

Diligent . . .
                     . . . but increasingly self-destructive.

At the end of the day,
The children play
In the fields of death;
Slowly taken down to rest,
Beneath the tall blades of grass
That hold the moments from the past.
This field full of young growing old,
In time they’ll all lose the flame
And fall to ash and ember:
Like the rest of us, the same,
Struggling to stay lit for a little longer.

I search for wood in the darkest hour
In the coldest forest amid the trees
Facing the wicked winds with valour
At a toppled tree, I bend down on my knees
Collect the lumber dry and frozen
I rise and begin my journey back
Wherewith the fuel now chosen
A simple light is all I lack

If for a moment time wasn't at my throat swinging like a pendulum with a cold blade at the end,
I’d challenge the world with that moment and in just a handful of seconds change everything —
but reality pulls back, those frozen seconds slip from my grasp, and I’m stuck in the infinite now;
trapped between the longing past and the hopeful future.

I’ve pondered the certainty of desolation;
The impossibility of the divine forever moments,
Against time’s constant undertowing motion,
we cannot contest / we cannot relent!

But now, as I stand and observe the city lights through the low-hanging mist,
I ponder the dark questions about humanity and what it has become from the early days through to now.
Is there not more wonder than a green blade of grass cracking through the crushing weight of the sidewalk’s concrete slab at my staggering feet?
I may enjoy this night — but I don’t.
I enjoy life despite a sorry excuse for love in a pseudo-relationshitstrorm and cheap *** with a sour aftertaste of pure regret.

I am heartbroken, and heartless.  Trying to make up for it with imagined feelings for a person who was never there.

And when I see all the people around me finding love in a bare, bar bathroom stall, I wonder in all my pity: did I miss out on opportunity?

As I pull the daggers from my heart,
The memories of home in my mind,
The person inside begins to fall apart,
And like the ****** past, is left behind.

A lone violin plays the sweet change from G to E minor, echoing sounds of sadness in my soul, and showing me that my red heart can bleed forever. What a strange feeling as I crave the chords to be played once more and satisfy the bleeding score which I always longed for. My heart was meant to bleed, all my emotions set free. Release my lock with the key of C and the combination from G to E minor.