I am as Luthien unto ye -
My Love, She healeth thy wounds.
I walk, and I run, and I search for ye,
Beloved, my Only One;
And I am - your Only Sun.
Fierce and brave, I'll fight for ye
My spell - it wickedly croons
I swear three times my Oath to thee:
My Life is for you to take.
My Passion - for you to wake.

O!-let the Dread and the Dead come forth!
Our Love will strive and endure!
We walk, and we run, and we know no grief:
My Life is for you to take.
My Passion - for you to wake.
We will withstand - Help Us, Our Oath!
For sorrows we'll find a cure.
Together forever, though Time is brief,
Beloved, my Only One;
And I am - your Only Sun.

(c)kRu, 2002

Designing shadows
Of your face:
How would you want them
to be seen?

I do not know
Your life-size hues,
and simply mix:
Your highs, my blues...

(c)kRu, 2000

you make me hyper-much

You make me hyper-much
so I can't breathe,
when you let me touch
and pull away to tease.
Say, does it feel good?
To get me in the mood?

How do you wish to be
with me to
get it on?
I'll do for you, just see -
I'll change and be new me...
And if you feel good,
I'll get in the mood.

Now all I need to do's...
not fantasize too hard
and chase you off me blues...
How's that for brand new start?
Oh, if it feels good,
I'll get in the mood.

(c)kRu, 29.08.-19.10.99

This is beyond me... I cannot
deny what has and is
grown in me...
The lust of your free soul and
how I could just drink it all,
and you would twist and scream,
while powerless
lying there...
Cry with pain unable to resist
and to
the overtake and split... You, not me...
Oh, such sweetness of such power!
And your lust drives me
insane, while I drink more,
mixing with wine;
And me, howling with a beast's voices
And you mumbling that
passion is impossible
there is none...
And the finale.
When lust...
lusting overcomes two hearts,
rustling, holding tight...
touching...
And when the sky falls and thousands
of those tiny monsters cry out
and our own drooling beasts
break away and shoot,
shoot, shoot to the sky and
mix with passing train
and pain... and
pleasure...
Cry.

(c)kRu, 1997

*

As much as you might disrelish
The tales that i gave you to keep,
I'm giving you more, lest they perish;
You shall be the keeper of these

Forever. Don't tell me you hate them,
And in your mercurial manner,
Resisting the secret desire,
You're equally fascinated.

And you, put together by anger,
Will throw them about, torn to dust.
But watch! If you pause they will tangle;
You mustn't play with what you lust.

(c)kRu, 1997

Crescent figures
moving slowly,
slipping faster
past your shape;
why d'you stand there -
shaking, rolling?
Racing shadows,
racing fate?
Stop awhile and linger!
Pause! Crumpled, humble
in your state.
You'll find not
the pearls and treasures
in those shadows that you bet.

(c)kRu, 1997

O pretty troubadours!
Play flutes made out of wood.
Your tunes remind us softly

Of old and ancient moods;
Of the medieval ladies,
Who strolled down fields of green,

Of lovers, speaking gently,
Not wishing to be seen.
O pretty troubadours!

Play loud your clear songs.
Let melodies be answered,
Let melodies endure.

(c)kRu, 1997

Hey there, Dr. Winston O'Boogie!
How is it on clouds up above?
Do you watch them roll, watch 'em moving?
Or fly with a thousand doves?

Hey, hey, Dr. Winston O'Boogie!
Come! Write a prescription for us.
Remind us how to boogie-woogie
Again. We've forgotten. Alas.

(c)kRu, 1997

*

The "happy heart" is happy less and less.
Some Courage, please! - to start the search for Lights...
The Inner Child's discouraged and distressed;
No joy is there - only faintest wights.

So - "happy heart" keeps wandering aloft...
Afar somewhere with remnants of the rays;
And further up from sanity, astray.

(c)kRu, 24.06.-08.09.09

*

A flower grows
Amid stone walls.
A flower grows
In cement walls.

It does not see
The gray concrete.
It does not notice
The cruel rocks.

The shining light
Is oh-so-high!
The sheen-white clouds
Are oh-so-nigh!

The flower stretches
Ever forth.
Out of the trenches
Ever strains -

Away, away
From fated cairns.

(c)kRu, 07.09.-08.09.09