Has it been days already
Confined within my mind
Lost the will to fight myself
My soul to me unkind

The cave of solitude closes me
I've lost myself inside
I want the world to look and see
The bruises that I hide

Unbending to your advances
And yet I hide and cry
I wish you'd break this cave of mine
I wish the tears would dry

Tired rays creep in toward these
Through cracks I want to close
Barely reaching through and yet
It doesn't cure my woes

I want to love and yet am scared
That you will leave my side
So I don't say hi passing by
Alone afloat this tide

Just when I summon will and grit
To hold you by the hand
And show to you my cave of fears
So you may understand

A wave of memories crashes through
Defenses I have built
A voice warns me to never dare
Disturb my ugly guilt

And so I say without a care,
When you ask me how I've been
It's been a peaceful Night my dear
Like one I've never seen.

Oft do thoughts trickle through my idle mind.
These plays by the soul is what for it's designed.
Or so thought I. Entertaining the figments
Entertaining, remembering, my soul forments.
Stories I wish never were or at least never
Was ever a part of. But they're mine to keep forever.
Never cherished the light as I did the dark.
When puppies slept and the doggies would bark.
A mouse through the thickets, while she'd move,
Got swooped at once. Death from above.
It was an owl. It didn't hoot. It just killed a mother
But this was for her owlets so ... Necessary ******?
The paradoxes that seem weirdly against what's moral.
Like the tale of the spider in the ******.
I digress far, and the night is passing fast.
Pains of the future, which comes but never lasts.
Sprites from the past which stay and never die.
The long night puts many to sleep but keeps open my eyes.
As my thoughts dwell, the tears swell within my lids.
Intrepid imaginations assault my heart. Courage what it needs.
I think why it is that we hurt and we feel.
The scars asking me, do we ever heal?
Can't help the noise or the silence or the madness.
The grieving soul isn't oblivious of it's vastness.
The scars ask again. Did we ever feel?
The incomplete stories that my heartbeats seal.
Threatening to be revealed with every breath.
Too sharp to be left bare, like a sword in it's sheath.
The tales you sought for me to tell you.
Will only prove your fears come true.
Bones under putrid skin and open sores.
Maggots festering and oozing from the pores.
Dead ones in the open fields, vultures hovering.
Hyenas on the corpses, jeering, devouring.
Jackals eagerly waiting their turn. The aftermath of war.
Grey matter seeping through an eye the bird tore
Out. Dream of war, little soldier, and thus demystify
The mysteries of demise and my lullaby.

A peacock wanders in your thoughts
In such a curious form
It jumps and leaps or limps and struts
And goes not whence it's come
It seems at first as if it's whole
But then a closer look
Reveals that it's just half a fowl
Or half an ugly rook
On half a pair of legs it trips
Then half a fall it takes
Half a drop of blood then drips
And half a squawk it makes
Half a flight and half a heart
And half the thought of it
Serves to tear my mind apart
The thought of half it's meat
Or half the sleep it takes when half
The night had passed and then
I feel as if on it's behalf
I'd dream like half of men
The tides of nature push us forth
Toward affections shores
Past the storms that ****** mirth
And fill with fear our pores
And life's boat seems to seek to sink
And fall with ease beneath
The waves -it titters on the brink-
That cut like fearsome teeth
Half a pair of hands that rows
Must seek another half
A helping hand that feels and grows
Comforting with a laugh
Perhaps to safety both can sail
Perhaps to greener lands
The half might not when one half fails
Perhaps it understands.
I wished to make this half it's length
Or make this line it's half
The peacock turned whole when it learnt
To find it's better half
Half of me and half of you
Could make good poems and more
Our halves become more real and true
More worthy to adore.


I love you.

Silent stars with quiet glints
Upon the midnight dark skies print
And the moon so subtly hints
The hooting owls to gently pray

Here with heels dug in the sod
My palms are smeared with sticky mud
My head prostrate, I talk to God
To rain mercies upon my grave

Standing here a man with sins
Deeds of ill in many scenes
Done to sorts of many beings
But my absolution is with my Liege

There across the wide expanse
As if were caught in a sickly trance
My conscience struck with conscious lance
Is waning pale and dies away

Here the man that was alive
Washed and shrouded, will arrive
Died of what some else'd survive
But time was due and done he is

A poet without a style
A heart without a chest
A being without a world
A roaming ghost a *****
An oyster seeks a shell
An orca stuck ashore
so far away from sea
A wandering soul that roams
and seeks a body so

bound by the singing whispers that didn't hum
and silent transition into sobbing tears
smearing sibilant sadness on such serenity.