We have our problems
Yeah I know
There are some places
We need to grow
But all I want
Wherever I go

Is you right there
Beside me

Personality is the canvas of the will


- Hadrian Veska

A beautiful love poem
Written by a lonely soul

A fantasy adventure
Written from a crippled body

A philosophical question
Posed by a highschool dropout

The world is full of people
People who accomplish great things

Despite their shortcomings

So who are we to judge someone
On anything other

Than the work of their hands

It matters not
what one thinks of a wise man,
For he knows himself,
And can differentiate
Interpretation from reality.

The fool however,
Changes constantly.
Influenced by what others think of him,
He is not sure what he wants to be

Or who he truely is .


- Hadrian Veska

I loved her naught
But for what I crafted her to be
Thus her reality
Shred my fantasy to pieces

For she was far more lovely
Than I ever could have imagined

Wandering flame
Don't let the shadows that dance around you
Frighten you or deter you from your path
They only grow larger
Because of your great light

The skies drip
An amaranth hue
Twisted colors
No longer blue

Burning oceans
Reflect in the skies
Distant lands
Where the sun never dies

And beyond those seas
Forlorn shores
The remnants of
Forgotten wars

When I die
Will I know who I really am?
No anxiety to hold me down
No disease to keep me in a bed

Will I breathe
And fill my lungs
For the first time in years
On my own?

Will I walk and run
Just like everyone else does?
Will people look at me
Without pity in their eyes?

And will I see you again
Without a forced smile
And tears
Rolling down your face?

Full moon rise
Bathe the hills in silver
Cast your faint glow
Across the sleeping lands

Where quiet murmurs
Echo from the forest
And the glow of fireflies
Illuminate the field

And when we are ready
Take us to the stars
Where we'll wait patiently
For the dawn of a new day

The room is dark
The only light
Is a sizzling white
Emanating from
My computer screen

With the blackout curtains
I'm not really sure
If it's morning or evening
And at this point
I don't really care

I stand up periodically
Only to move
From the computer
To the television
And then back again

It's hard to breath
My head feels inflated
And my muscles hurt
Probably from not
Using them enough

Sometimes I curl up
And just think
I think of things
That would have been
If I wasn't stuck this way

And then finally
My loneliness
Lulls me too sleep
Only to repeat the process
Again the next day

Hey all, I'm going to try and read and post about 2-3 of my poems a week on my YouTube here. Newest one is at the link below. Constructive criticism is welcome, will eventually get a better mic but its not a priority now. Just working on getting comfortable reading and not smacking my lips between sentences haha. Thank you for any and all support!


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6oHlsAn6Kg&ab_channel=HadrianVeska

It's beautiful,
To run into someone that knows you,
Who you can't remember.

It reminds you that you exist,
Outside of your own mind.


-Hadrian Veska

Down in my sealed off heart
I build a fortress of many parts
With great gates and unbreachable walls
Tall towers and deep columned halls
Measure upon measure to ensure
My fragile heart might endure

Opalescent streams of running water
Cascade over slick black rock
With no destination in mind
They simply follow the curve of the earth

And yet they always end up
Where they need to be

Something sinister there resides
In the crevices and craters
Of that ancient satellite
Perhaps it has always been there
Or perhaps it was sealed there
In ages long since past
Regardless I get a shiver
Directly down my spine
On cloudless nights
When the moon is full


For I know it to be empty

Stars fall in empty space
Adolescent constellations
Bound in white lace
A patchwork staccato
Of faint pulsing light
Bridging the gap
Between us and the night
And when they do fall
Will we then carry on
With their light in our hearts
Long after their gone

Ah yes, I've seen you.
Many and myriad times
Through the old looking glass.

Once it was used
To observe the celestials,
Now it lies dormant.

Unused, save for my studies
In the twilight hours
Between dusk and dawn.

Yet no matter my subject,
Each night you appear
Stunningly before my eyes.

Amid the stars and constellations
Bathed in soft and distant light;
You radiate a heavenly glow.

But though I see you,
I know not where you are.
You are wholly foreign to me.

A far off dream,
A dream that dissapears
With the coming of the light.

The land beyond the mountains
Is little known
Save for legend
of Krykry

An ancient sprawling city
Of unknown origin
That has lied in ruins
For untold millennia

From the top of the mountains
Its crumbled spires can be seen
Though few venture near
Those treacherous peaks

Some say the city was built
Long before humans walked the earth
The thought of which makes men shudder
For they have heard tales of the things

That walked under the sun
When yet it was young in the sky

Wilted it wafts
Withering on the ground
Despite decomposition
It dare not make a sound
For life caused it to languish
As all living things ought
Now in rest is released
From all that death wrought

Weathered
Moss and speckled stone
Linger
In a place that I had known
Souring
Wrinkled fruit upon the trees
Creeping
On our elbows and our knees
Crackling
of the leaves and sticks below
Hunting
As it does when sun sinks low

The dust storm was so strong
I could barely see out the window
Of the abandoned facility
I had been sent to salvage from

Charging my torch I say by the window
If I pressed my ear close enough
I could make out a sound
Enough through the storm

It must be the loudspeaker I thought
Somehow it survived the bombings
I listened closer and heard it drone faintly
As of giving out orders on a work camp

After a while of straining my ears
The storm died down a little
To where I could plainly hear
The speaker system outside

It appeared to be counting
Though not in a language I understood
It was a monotone female voice
But there was something odd

The voice never repeated itself
Like a normal announcement
Or warning might do
It just counted endlessly

The storm cell must have passed over
As it returned to the ferocity
Of machine gun sand
And deafening winds

The halls and passages were dark
The only light my rechargeable torch
In the gloom and shadow
Of this monsterous abandoned complex

That despite the long war
Had forgotten to die

I stand in line
Waiting for my coffee
Not a thought in my mind
And then one enters
The thought of how thoughtless I am
How vacuous my mind is

Why do I so rarely wonder
So rarely toy with things beyond me
Where are the thoughts of my youth
And am I the person I used to be?
The barista handed me my coffee
I didn't realize that I had already paid

I smiled and left the shop

The river flows out to the sea

Carrying lost memories

Memories I used to be

And I’m better off without them



My darling says she misses me

Beneath the sun and date palm trees

I am inclined and wish to be

Right there along beside her

We have more than ever
But never enough
Always accumulating
Useless stuff

We did this to ourselves
But soon shall it be
That things will return
To the way they used to be

Back when the Earth
Was young and green
And men grew tall
Strong and lean

And return we shall
To those days of yore
When sun doth set
And moon no more

The future has been used up
In the lofty ideas
and dreams of the past

Yet strangely,
What is to come
Has not yet been predicted

Keep out until you find yourself
Keep quiet until the task is done
Keep humble now and always
And keep your head held towards the sun

The plains of Il-Volruil are silent
Its grasses sway gently

The light of the liquid moon
Hangs heavy overhead

Though calm and undisturbed
None dare venture there

For in its ruins
Does a strange thing lurk

A twisted creature
From a time long lost

A being that holds
Two cardinal tales

The child's tale
Of a misunderstood protector

And the fearful man's tale
Of a dark and malignant spirit

Without the material
The spiritual can't be known
Without the spiritual
The material has no meaning

This is why so many are lost
And without meaning
They have abadoned the dichotomy
Of the two worlds

And have chosen only one
In all things it leads them
To the ancient truths of the spiritual
Yet to follow would be to admit defeat

So they continue to wallow
In self hatred and meaningless
All because of their pride
Or their ignorance

An excellent plan
Will never be realized as such
If it is executed poorly

- Hadrian Veska

Corrupting power absolute
Poisoning down to the very root
With broken mind and ill intent
To bring about a dark advent

Dormant sickness from days of yore
Come from the stars released once more
The culmination of that ancient plan
To bring about the end of man

Staring at each other
In the near dark of dusk
Hoods and masks
Kneeling on the floor

Everything in black and white
Save for colored smoke
Weaving and intertwining
Between our very eyes

The Sun is setting now
Soon and ever closer
The hollow moon to rise
And flood the waking world

With sleepless dreams and visions
From beyond the thin veil

It's a lonsome world
Decayed, full of rot
And you the prince of it all
I will not be here for long
So in the time I yet remain
You must decide
Who it is you will be
For your enemies are naught
But destruction and darkness
And they will come for you
Once I am gone
Spreading like a sickness
As they did long ago
The heroes of old are gone
Their statues lie in rubble
No one remains to save you
Save for yourself young prince
And in time
You will know your own strength

Dreams upon dreams
Layer them
Until the beginning
And the end
Are indiscernible
There within
Will you breifly know
And faintly taste
Immortality
A corrupting ichor
You will not soon forget

Think

If indeed you still can

To the time before you were born

That vague murky half remembered feeling

Of uninterrupted stasis

Of knowing all that there is

Which is nothing

A contentment in obscurity

Both of body and mind

A time, or more appropriately a place

Where conscious and unconscious are one

Where all things intertwine and weave together

Remember it, for therein lies the key

Just think

Only for a moment

Recall it

If indeed you still can

Less than a drop in the bucket,
like all men destined to be forgotten.
A quiet comfort,
That brief spark
Before everlasting obscurity.

Th grey sands blow ceaseless
Beneath a tired sun
What thrived is now extinct
So long ago begun

The heroes there forgotten
buried beneath the sand
Their bones the only relics
Of that distant dying land

Noodles and broth swirl
With specs of oil and vegetables
Around with a turn of my fork

The air is stale and stagnant
Only an occasional rush
Of a breeze comes down from the entrance

There was no one else in the shop
A small ramen pop up
On the edge of the subway platform

People walked busily
Back and forth, up and down
To their trains and cabs above

I couldn’t say who any of them were
But I was fascinated watching them
As I sat and waited for her

I’m sure she never even left
She was probably still in the keys
On a pontoon below the afternoon sun

With the wind in her hair
And some one else’s arms
Wrapped about her

Beneath the forest
Through great sylvan years
Green needles of pine
And wide outstretched leaves
A wind ever whispering
Though on occasion to wail
Whipping through the boughs
Of these far distiant slopes
Even at harshest
The world here is mild
Unknown to war, famine or want
The creatures are gentle
The winters the same
The only men are wanderers
Passing through the mists
Though curious
I never dare to trail them
For to me they seem as spirits
Passing through these forests
For as of yet I have never seen
A single one of them return

Far stars awake from slumber
From hiding and places lost
The world has been reborn
And life again stirs

Green returns from desolation
Scars heal and fire fades
Curious eyes look up once more
To the now empty heavens

Where your light once shone

Wait for it
The wind that blows down from the mountain
Wait for it silently
To refresh your soul
In the wind there is a voice
A whisper at most
What it says is unknown
But what it means is wholly understood

Realities
Spin and swirl
Ever revolving
Around a mass heavy center

Truth remains constant
But reality is a purer concept
Then we could ever hope to witness
And only reality can reveal truth

So how can the truth ever be know

Dream away
Where they might be
Swaying fern
And date palm tree
There where is
The sun I know
Golden, purple
And then below
The blue green waters
Clear and deep
A rising moon
To bid still sleep

Rise and fall
Ebb and flow
As tide does come
And tide does go
Raise on up
And settle down low
These are the things
That we do know

I dreamed once
Of someone I loved
I made the mistake
Of imagining my life with them

Everything was beautiful
The world seemed brighter
Anything was enjoyable
As long as it was with them

And then I woke up
In my dull empty room
Sad, yet not surprised
I laid my head back down

As a tear escaped my eye

Seemingly, seemingly
The world around is squeezing me
Pulling me and pushing me
With no particular destiny

The things I know fade away
The storms carry on dark and grey
I'm losing the things that guide my way
I need something less or more

To get me through the day

Drip, drop
Moss on the rocks
Overcast sky
The canopy blocks
Fall, flow
Down the great stream
Carrying all
To where we do dream
Dream, sleep
In waters still
That in your mind
You find your fill

Distant bell toll again
Bring me closer to the end
Comfort me in the dead of night
Where shadows walk just out of sight
Be my guide on paths forlorn
Where lost souls weep and widows mourn
And in the end lead me at last
To futures forward and backward pasts
That I might know the sacrifice made
And in that empty tomb be laid
Content in wait and to decay
Until the dawn my soul to stay

She's waiting for me there
Lovely as always
A warm afternoon glow
Adorns her patient face

The scent of summer berries
Faintly reaches out
From her long silky hair
Carried by a gentle breeze

Sometimes I think I smell it
Though I know she is far away
Making me all the more eager
To find that hidden place

Where she patiently waits
For me to one day find her

A man who withdraws into his own mind
Never comes out as sane as he entered


- Hadrian Veska

I've seen something strange in my days
Whenever war rears its ugly head
It is never the rich or strong that turn the tide
No it is always the weak

It is the family man,
The scrawny farmboy,
The mother of three,
The quiet daughter,

It is these that rise up
These that stand when no one else will
And heed the distant call of certain doom
So that those left behind

Might one day know peace