Whatever happened to the happiness,
from all those early childhood days.
Where laughter. joy and sunshine,
filled all of imaginations endless plays?

What became of the joyous music,
giving beat and harmony to the world.
When dream and hope could exist,
and all possibilities could be unfurled?

When did all this darkness fall,
to lay shadow so dark upon the lands,
as a dense foreboding that has been
summoned by greeds unsated demands?

When did dream and hope become,
just mere folly and wasted thought.
What happened to the morals and the ethics,
that as kids we valued and were taught?

When and where did all this go,
for everywhere I look such is just not there.
All has been replaced by a selfish world
of greed, hatred and down-trodden despair.

I know that in the course of time,
I am meant to see an old man's view.
But what worth and value of a world,
where hate and lies are sold as true?

Death and hatred fill this world,
in every rank corner that I see,
and in silent, desperate fear I wonder,
why we stood-by and let it come to be?

For these fitful nights, love must bear the blame --
But is sleeplessness not part of love's game?
What's left but to entreat the heedless air?
(That useless prattle, also known as prayer)

A heart that's plagued with unspeakable pain
Will cry out to Heaven, time and again.
What recourse have I, teetering on the edge,
With no one to talk me down from the ledge?

Loneliness becomes a nightmarish realm
Where I drift alone . . . no one at the helm;
Then Hope throws the line that pulls me ashore
And rescues me from despair's tidal bore

At times I tire of Hope's uplifted eyes,
And its surfeit of well-intentioned lies;
More than once I've been tempted to ignore
The shining outlook Hope brings to my door

But Hope never mocks my relentless quest
For love, but fans its embers in my breast;
If not for Hope, despair would defeat me,
Bringing dread when the dawn comes to greet me

For when I find bitter thoughts taking hold,
Weakening my will, urging me to fold,
You can bet Hope will  knock upon my door,
And I can't help but answer . . . just once more

At least these drops of water are falling all around me,
Instead of from me.

A reminder,
that even those of us who soar above the rest,
can sometimes fall to the ground,
in a drop of full of pain.

The pregnant clouds rumble overhead,
The atmosphere as heavy as my heart.
The meagre light has long given up.
Bracing against the fierce icy winds,
I walk across the rocky plain.

A moment of stark stillness
As lightning forks across the sky;
And I see the ground gently dipping
Leading to a circular green depression
With black boulders strewn across

As thunder shakes the world
I take shelter under a rocky promontory
Jutting up from an edge of the circle
And wonder at the perfectly round boulders
Hewn by some giant in ages past.

As the dusk deepens,
And the winds die down,
And the world waits with bated breath,
The weariness of my mind takes me
And I slip into a restless sleep.

I wake to the sound of rain and music.
The night is as pitch.
But there is light swirling in the rocks,
Gold, red, blue and green,
Whirling around inside the hard blackness.

And as the colours dance,
I hear the sound of lutes and lyres,
Of harps and flutes and violas,
And of instruments whose beauty
Is not meant for the newer ages.

Thoughts come unbidden into my mind.
The music dredges up forgotten faces.
Lost voices rise up in my memory.
Futures wilt and dead pasts resurface,
And Regrets take root and flourish.

Vanquished by this wicked magic,
I bow my heavy head,
Hide my tears in my drawn up knees,
Hug myself against the onslaught
And drown in the deluge of that cruel symphony.

The morning star defied the godly beam of divinity:
     The star feeding the vines of evil embracing bodies,
Saying “no” since the grand affliction, to the trinity,
      It is Morningstar; the devil - Courage he embodies.
        
Nameless angels envied the free one of the chain,
      Light and of light they were, yet the opposite beats -
Beats in their hearts - jealousy and wrath remain,
      In the servants with no will in their celestial meats.

An upholstery of fragile sins to test the son was.
      He stood for the fire, and O! Flames hurled upon,
Banished and loner, the voice of every lost cause,
      In the streets, skins and days that cease to go on.

How shall we and he defend not the selves created,
     With a consciousness ideal and stark, by the almighty?
The almighty himself, who selfishness in us dictated,  
     We, makers of evil, goodness and charming Aphrodite?

He fell, greeting the stars, wavering a throne above,
    And shedding a ****** tear for a sin in the creation.
A sin with no faulty one committing - the sin of love,
    Self love, the “sin” Morningstar fought for its liberation.

Being alone,  I stare at the sky,
Wishing its laws were mine to command;
I would dim the moon's refulgent light --
Might that help Heaven to understand?

Just as the moon's radiance would be missed
If it were abducted from its realm,
So my ship sails with no guiding light --
Too long I've stood alone at the helm

Would the dreary woodland not rejoice
Hearing the song of one faithful bird?
Yet, alone I trudge down Life's harsh path,
Deprived of Love's reassuring word

Being alone, I find no reason
To greet the dawning day with a smile;
I see no sense in praying for strength
To carry my cross another mile

Being alone, I cannot believe
There's a God who feels pity for me;
Without Love's light my ship navigates
In the darkness . . .  and I'm lost at sea

And if it's a sin to renounce faith
In a God who cares,  then cast your stone!
No form of chastisement could be worse
Than this bitter pain of being alone