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Elijah Corbeau Jan 2015
You know - I think the world unwell,
And it’s a sickness of the core-
Is it Heaven or Hell, have we climbed or fell,
And does anyone know whats in store?

Regarding the intermingling of rich and poor
Or those of any variant of such-
Is the deafening roar of unjust rapport,
A signal of humanity out of touch?

Or is it a simple fact that we’re stuck-
An unable collective at heart,
Out of luck and currency struck,
And unable to perceive our parts?

For there is a purpose in leaving our marks,
And in the end, all we can do is pray
That our sins go dark, the light will start
And tomorrow is another day.

You know – I think the world quite swell,
Cruel beauty is its stock and store.
Release your shell, your soul wont sell,
And I swear you are worth so much more.
Elijah Corbeau Jan 2015
Now I lay me down to sleep,
And God, I hope before I wake
That you have mercy, mercy on me
For the path that I have to take.

You see, I tried and can no longer wait
For my soul to be suddenly granted grace,
Instead, Ill create my own sovereign state
And defy the world to deny my place.

To those with no care, I will no longer give chase
For why should I sacrifice my heart?
And if given space, they’ll come face to face
With the fact that it is now that I start-

A beginning of the end, a new world apart.
A flight to the highest of skies-
A mountainous mark on the walls of the Ark,
That none but the blind would deny.

For I’m no longer a child, I am no longer weak,
And it is a lonely path I must take.
So Lord, have mercy, mercy on me
For the conquests that I will make.
Lord, please have mercy..,
Elijah Corbeau Sep 2014
If love is tied to the stars, and to fate,
to what seems to be just a fleeting dream-
Perhaps star crossed or maybe all is lost,
Will we know before the end of the scene?

Are there hints? If so, what do they mean?
What exactly, do all of these signs foretell?
Is there a theme amongst the clues, between
Half-hearted attempts at wishing well?

But on these things, we do not dwell-
Passions play should be a victimless crime.
No heaven, nor hell, nor friar, nor spell,
Could part us before our appointed time!

Can we live, with the world as our rhyme,
And as poets, play our songs to the part?
Would you be mine if I could divine
the secret melodies that lay in your heart?

So this I swear, before God, in this state-
To love you, as if this were our final scene.
And then forevermore, our love will endure
As an endless dream within our dreams.
Inspired by watching Shakespeare in NYC! Check out #OccupyVerona!
Elijah Corbeau Sep 2014
A heart contains several notes-
Melodies for special situations.
Played like drums or quickly strummed,
they produce emotions.

A midnight tryst contains a lovely ballad,
Tempered later by the blues;
Fighting words will illicit drama
sung by a broadway muse.

Fear of fate will still sing the gospel
following a quick bout of prayer-
While a sunset always arrives
following electronic days in subtle layers.

Anothers pain is echoed by a wailing sound,
A guitar crying their hurt that day;
While a flute, light and airy,
brings peace and fends loss away.

A snow covered field on a winters day
is reflected by all that jazz;
And a solo by a lone violin
will remind us of beauty past.

A single aria from a lonely soul
becomes a duet between lovers,
while a dirge follows inevitably
when they depart each other.

So from my heart to yours,
Why can't we sing forever?
Let's let our souls fly free and
see what music we'll make together.
Elijah Corbeau Aug 2014
It's windy. The cool breeze of the ocean.
It gives,, a sense of beauty, in motion.
All is flowing, rushing and tide-
And I sit in wonder, dreaming beside.

Shells line the shore, lining and lining.
The sun is above, shining and shining.
The surf will speak softly, whispering in time,
"Oh my Love, will you deign to be mine?"

So I speak to the ocean, the Mother of all.
There's no other sound but the waves rise and fall.
Crashing, rushing, babbling in tune
Echoes the evening softness, coming so soon.
A trip to the beach breeds sensually sonorous thoughts.
Elijah Corbeau Aug 2014
The wind blows briskly. Echoes abound.
The night is calm, with few simple sounds.
I miss you, you know. There's a spot just for you.
I'm here alone, but this night was for two.

I miss you. That thoughts in my head.
Are you sleeping soundly? Quietly in our bed?
I have so many questions, but I don't know the answers,
Will I ever recover from our early encounters?

Love's a funny thing, it ebbs and it flows.
You don't forget though. The rest? Who knows.
Can we live with such eternal regrets?
Or will we fade away, and in time, forget?

Baby, I'm sorry that I can no longer lead.
But I'm grateful for all of the love I've received.
I have left, and I feel you're now leaving.
But I'm alone in the night, and I can't stop my grieving.
For Krys
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