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Jeroen Janssen Apr 2020
Born as one, will die alone, but what may come in time?
A loner for eternity, perhaps a clever mind
Might turn into a brilliant thinker or a thoughtful soul
We watch the journey of lonely men until they fade and go

At best a man is on his own, where he can touch the sky
For what he wants to be in life, he’ll find the wings to fly
To wisdom and awareness
To love and even happiness

But what if the herd closes in, guided by one mind
It shares a common cause not slightly challenged or refined
Just follow the leader
Reckless, the screamer

Common sense is greater good but only if a sense
Is powered by a single mind and not by all his friends
Cleverness is quickly lost in expanding crowd
Sadly, most common senses are those that are most loud

The power of the masses should never be denied
Shouting in a crowd is bliss, but please don’t lose your mind
You’re still an individual
Please, be the individual
Any comments on the English grammar or flaws in using this language, please submit it.
Jeroen Janssen Dec 2018
He left the house in such a rush
He could not stand the noise
The screaming, crying and shouting
He had no other choice
Than to run across the front yard
Where no flower had grown in years
To be thrown upon the pavement
Drowning in his tears

He walked for many miles and thought
Of the freedom he had gained
In the myst of night a bar appeared
A warm shelter from the rain
He drank and laughed and drank some more
While old friends had been long gone
He threw up on the pavement
Thrown out and on his own

For hours and hours he crawled and found
The streets were dark and cold
Till a new day came upon him
And a new life did unfold
A woman, young and beautiful
Took care of him that day
Their love should last for ever
And he would always stay

But darkness came and took her heart
She died one night in May
She left him a handful of flower seeds
And no more words to say

He wandered with no purpose
The years went by and by
Till he came across a front yard
Where the earth was hard and dry
A degraded house was all that’s left
And a memory of sound
In his hand the seeds of love he held
And he dropped them on the ground

Then suddenly he stopped and turned
In his eyes the light was new
From the ground where he just stood on
A flower gently grew...
Misfortune, choices, love, a second change. That is what this is about.
Jeroen Janssen Dec 2018
I dreamt that I was sleeping
Dreaming in the night
Grey and crying Angels
Were lit by candlelight
And in the flames the faces
Of those who lived and loved
Now troubled by the traces
Of the lies of all the Gods

I dreamt that I was dreaming
A battle in the night
The grey and crying Angels
Were ready for the fight
The Common and their Senses
Marched up from empty land
No prayer could change the changes
Of The Apocalypse at hand

I dreamt that I was dreaming
Screaming in the night
The grey and crying Angels
Outnumbered in the fight
I soon saw The Four Horsemen
And all the Seven Seals
I knew that I was dreaming
But God, it felt so real

No use in crying for mercy
Or praying prayers for help
The grey and crying Angels
Were lost, that night they fell
A thunderstorm was raging
Black smoke had blurred my sight
I dreamt that I stopped dreaming
Lay weeping in the night

I dreamt that I was sleeping
I dreamt that I went back
To the valley of inferno
The fields of Angel’s Wreck
The countless dead and slaughtered
In pouring rain lay slain
Neither sense nor faith claimed victory
But the truth had lost again
We always seek for the truth. But fighting and killing others who pursue different kind of truths is simply stupid and pointless.
I tried not to pick a side. I don’t even care what the truth is. There’s no way anyone will find out in this life. So I can’t be bothered.

My native tongue is not English. I am Dutch. So if anyone has some comments and tips or do’s and don’t ‘s; please do.

Hope you like it!!

Jeroen Janssen Dec 2018
In warm depths of ancient hearts,
a light that shines today.
The light of love in all of us
should ne’er dim nor blind nor fade.
The light itself can never burn;
it needs the power of fire.
And passion, lies within our love,
is oil to light up

The fire that burns inside your heart,
applying for applies,
is tired of burning up all alone.
‘My oil is gone!’ it cries.
‘No more depths of empty hearts,
I can take no more!
I’d rather die than live with them.
I’d rather die, for

This rainy night will end again
and you will see the day.
It smiles at you, for there’s a man
who can take your grief away.
This one fine day, so clearly bright,
a man knocks on your door.
You’ll open up and he will light
your light forever more.

— The End —