There’s truth now behind, that great irony:
You can’t see the forest from its multitudinous trees.
Well, at least be aware that
the spirit is there in entirety.
It encompasses space that
time will erase
unless its wisdom we heed.
But the spirit remains for a moment.
A ghost put to shame, and
we are to blame, for owning it which cannot be tamed.
Time is meaningless, but the
world isn’t gleaning this, not
understanding this fleeting kiss,
our touch is infectious, reckless
there is no way to reset this.
Denature our Mother that
we so unjustly smother
for this appetite we can never sate.
As Love turns to Hate,
Our Kiss turns to ****,
til we ignore what we can’t flee,
can’t see the Forest from the Trees.

The devil I am already had a pitchfork
and eagerly took up the torch.
My black heart was pitch, too ready for a scorch.

My insidious nature should not be touched.

I groped through the dark for something
to clutch. I looked for kindness
and found too much.  
A bonfire for the ******.
A blaze to cause blindness.
No eyes of love could behold that funeral pyre
but with scarred fingers I felt the fire.

Surrounded by broken screams
I hear my mind’s seams rip
and all I’m left with is reams of blank pages.
In one hand, rolled tightly is a fresh white beacon.
I reach out to shake with my other as I put another lover
in this mechanism for my massacre of the ages.

Trying to be a few rays of light
And a shade from blinding light.
Trying to be a part of the solution
Though it's easy to unwittingly
Contribute to the pollution.
By the sheer fact of being human
We can at times and by turns
And at the same time be
Culprit and victim
Survivor and casualty.

At the beginning
Was an open sea
Knowing nothing
But its own
Owning every
Beach it met
Not knowing enough to feel alone

After many
Long years it finds
There is much
More for to see
Inlets and outlets
On every shore
A sense of greater freedom to be free

The sea joined
To many rivers
Seeing land
On either side
Freedom then became
Just a memory
The river's end was not in sight

But along the way
An Ocean Watershed
Joining rivers to the sea
It had to sleep
In many river beds
To see what it was meant to be

Down in the river
Flowing headlong
To the sea
Joining the
River's rage
That is where
I long to go
That is where I am meant to be.

Hatred.
Is it what, all this while, we have learnt?
Love.
Is it what, to ashes, we have burnt?
Or.
Is it that we are misguided?
Maybe.
It's just that we are quite shortsighted.
Because.
If we would be aware,
Of the result caused by our ignorance,
Would not we have long changed,
From a foolish monster,
To an understanding human being?