I met two men beneath the sun,
Each shining bright, yet they were one.
The first would smile on darkest days,
A light that cut through shadowed haze.

His warmth was soft, his laughter kind,
A balm for troubled heart and mind.
But now he’s gone, his glow is past,
A sun that set too soon, too fast.

The second man, a different flame,
Still warm, but never quite the same.
His light is calm, though shadows stay,
A sun that drifts, yet holds the day.

Detached, he stands with quiet grace,
No smiles, but peace within his space.
Two suns I’ve known, both bright, yet far,
One lost to time, one distant star.

Now he’s my mentor, guiding me still,
He teaches with patience, each lesson a gift,
In moments of doubt, it’s his light that I lift.
A beacon of calm under ever-changing skies.

T hrough empty halls, he walks alone,
H earing only the quiet’s subtle tone.
E very echo fades, dissolving in the night.

S tillness surrounds him, sharp and bright,
O nce more, he feels the weight of time.
U nseen currents flow, almost sublime,
N othing stirs, yet something deeply moves.
D ark rivers course through veins, he proves.

O n the surface, calm — within, unrest,
F or silence hides the shadows unexpressed.

S lowly, he listens to the silence speak,
I t hums in hearts, both strong and weak.
L iquors black like night flow through each vein,
E ntering his thoughts, deep and arcane.
N ow, alone, he finds the quiet true,
C aught in the space where nothingness grew.
E very soul hears silence in its core.

A man spoke today, with wisdom in his eyes,
Saying we are both angels and demons in disguise.
Half-blood creatures, born of mud and light,
Walking in the gray, neither black nor white.

We live between worlds, where shadows blend,
Near to the divine, where heavens descend.
Like Lucifer, who once soared so high,
Now walks among us, beneath the same sky.

We strive to be near the gods, though flawed,
Half-believing, half-doubting, we still applaud.
For even in darkness, we see the truth’s gleam,
Agreeing He is there, as real as a dream.

In this gray life, we rise and we fall,
Both cursed and blessed, yet connected to all.
Angels and demons, in a dance so divine,
Seeking the godliness we know is mine, is thine.

A T.V Turns On

"- In other news, the former Owner of a booming business has recently disappeared under certain unusual circumstances, Kathy?"

"That's right John, Mr. Hart, Age 60, was presumably going home one night, but his wife, Ellen Hart, Age 59, says he never made it back home. Ellen had thought that maybe he went out drinking with a couple of his co-workers and simply forgot to call home and let her know. However, when he didn't return home at his usual time Ellen then called his cellphone, but when he failed to answer she then called the authorities. Arthur Hart, his son, Age 30, was called in by police after being listed as a Prime Suspect but stated that the last time he saw his father was when his father gave him the Hawaiian branch of the family business. Having moved out to Hawaii shortly after the promotion, Arthur says he found himself incredibly busy and hadn't found ample time to visit either of his parents, and several co-workers further verified him having never left Hawaii long enough - or at all - to potentially kidnap or **** his father. The list of Suspects however is surprisingly short, frustrating Authorities and confusing those close to Mr. Hart as to why he even has any. The Son is now set to inherit the whole business, worth just under 5 billion, making him one of the youngest billionaires to exist! Furthermore -"

A T.V Turns Off

A man rises up from a desk, where a name plaque sits innocently, oblivious and unaware of the fact that it can no longer do its job. The man turns towards it, smiles at the plaque, picks it up and - almost as if it was a chore - tosses it into wastebasket beside the desk. The man then turns back around and leaves the formerly busy office, turning towards a firmly and passcode locked door. The man unlocks the door, opens it, walks in, and shuts it firmly behind him. Walking over to the lone freezer sitting almost innocently in the middle of the room, the man smiles yet again as he opens it with an air of laziness, now grinning wide as he speaks to the blue lipped, wide eyed, gentleman inside -

- The plaque is still unaware as it is lifted up and placed back upon the desk, it seems to proudly display its engraved name as it shines in the light -

"Hello Father"

- Sr. Hart

He was born into power, a family so grand,
The eldest of three, with the weight in his hands.
Two younger brothers, with hearts full of light,
He swore to protect them, to shelter their flight.

His dreams were once vivid, of stories to tell,
With a camera in hand, he’d capture the spell.
But duty called louder, the legacy clear,
So he buried his wishes, without shedding a tear.

Each day, he smiled, though the ache never ceased,
A secret he carried, a longing unreleased.
For the world saw strength, but his heart held the pain,
Of dreams left behind in the shadow of gain.

He gave up his passion, became their shield,
To guard their ambitions, his heart never healed.
Sacrifice noble, but it weighed on his soul,
For every lost picture, he lost more control.

But love has a way, like a whisper it grows,
His brothers could see through the mask that he chose.
They pleaded, they begged, “Let us carry this too,
You don’t have to break for the dreams we pursue.”

He faltered, then yielded, and shared what was real,
The burdens, the sorrow, the weight he could feel.
And in that moment, he found what was lost,
The love of his family, whatever the cost.

He had been strong, but in sharing his load,
He realized true strength was lightening the road.
His brothers stood with him, no longer alone,
In love, he was lost, but in love, he was home.

Now the dreams he once hid no longer seem far,
For family’s love is the brightest of stars.
And though he still bears the legacy’s name,
He’s found his own path, and it’s never the same.

I make my way among a mighty castle, but to everyone else that is merely ruins. The rubble covers the earth surface, but I pick it up and begin to build anew. The others just watch, fascinated by sight, to build a grave into a ceremony of life. They say their time has frozen in place, but I know it will move eternally. As I lay the bricks, one by one, a new story will start to write, for only the authors who let it be that way, and yet I’ll never realize that my new chapter of life has started, and they’re writing their final sentence. Still building this castle, one by one, but the debris still infects the Earth, when suddenly a thought comes to mind. It darkens and swallows the life. I sink to my knees, drowning in fear, as dark clouds gaze from heaven. I’ll never finish this castle. Humanity will never survive. They’ll slowly fade away, never to be remembered again I’ll never finish this castle, if nobody is here to share the memory.

I told her, how her eyes met me at the horizon
and how often they looked lonely
she didn’t heed or pay me any attention
so I told her a little more slowly

I told her how my heart bled red roses
and how I grew them for her only
she hadn’t noticed my stare and poses
so I told her a little more slowly

I told her, a touch is a thesaurus of meaning
and each trace tells a story
she flinched at my reading
so I told her a little more slowly

I told her, if my words could speak but a kiss
she’d hear them soft and loudly
she sighed when she felt my lips
so I told her a little more slowly.

This story will forever be carved in the inscription of eternity
Our love story
In the frame of togetherness that we have carved for almost 7 years
Now we will display it
In the wall of time of our life journey
And let it be eternal
Although the carving is never truly finished
At least it will be
A solace for us when crossing the corridor of memories when we are upset and thirsty through the harshness of life
"This is my love story of October 2, 2017 till September 16, 2024"