When yonder moonlight deepens,
and dark seems the gloom,
I sit amidst my solitude,
and think of you, again,
of how, the sunshine,
dappled your brow,
your fiery eyes, bright with life,
the ready smile,
upon your lips,
and your laughter, sweet music,
of a hundred tinkling bells,

I think of the times’,
when we walked, hand in hand,
through beaten forest trails,
and lay in the glade, beside the brook,
and the sun wove a carpet,
of green and gold and red,
and as the night came on,
we waited for the first star to shine,
and walked back to our hearth,
with a thousand fires above,

I had you, and you had me,
and we had naught else,
but how full was our life,
every moment a joy,
I remember our first born,
the first fruit of our innocence,
and all that we were,
was born into our child

I remember then,
the rumble of guns,
and planes flying above,
that rained fire, around,
and brought our homes to dust,
the rumbling caravans of tanks’,
and guns spewing lead,
all the streets around,
were tinged with varied hues,
of grief, terror and blood,
the burning buildings,
the pitted roads,
and billowing smoke that greyed the sky,
seemed to cast,
upon our town,
a certain shroud of death;
when food became scarce,
and riots common,
and men lurked in shadows,
to ****** their hands,
on some passing miseried soul,
each striving to stay alive,
hungry stomachs, and crazed minds,
imposing the laws of the wild;

what became of you, I know not,
that day you left our house,
was it a knife, or a piece of lead,
or was it misery’s toll,
maybe, I shall never know,
but I write this to you, in hope,
that sometime, somewhere,
in some further land,
we shall meet again,
where no war exists, nor strife,
nor misery’s plague,
and we shall dwell as before,
two souls, in innocence,
under the starlit sky.

Of demons and deities, ruling the skies,
of gliding swift, like  the raven flies,
with sinister look, and abandoned gloom,
searching for the flower, of hellish bloom,
a child is born, in a far off land,
on his right fore arm, he bears the brand,
twisting serpents, and circling numbers,
towards the grave, of his father he lumbers,
he breaks the stone, and eats the flesh,
with his father’s power, he is invest.

He gathers his forces to go to war,
men of integrity, who stand too far,
from the world of God, with all its pleasures,
who’ve torn their robes, and rejected its treasures,
men coming from all the world,
with one hand, a stone they hurled,
and the altar of god, came crashing down,
the day of the mighty, had seen its dawn.

winged creatures, lost their wings,
heavenly beings were covered in sin,
the mightiest god, had risen from death,
in the form of a child, the child of Beth,
a common man, who’s common no more,
his kingdom extends to the very shore,
the sea is his, the skies are his,
not a square inch, do his eyes miss

He rules the world, with god’s consent,
great nations, are of his descent,
and yet there is wailing, and gnashing of teeth,
with the stench of corpses,  rivers reek,
there is death everywhere, unhappiness reigns,
looking from above, our father grins,
and says to us, forsaken people,
you are the ones who broke my steeple,
and dared to dream, and dared to try
with your meagre means, to touch the sky,
who asked for learning, who asked for freedom,
for you I have no place in my kingdom.

And then the king looked up said,
oh god who gave me wine and bread,
grant me also, the power of death,
to free my people, and grant them breath,
allow them to live, in the forbidden land,
where the ground is covered, with blazing sand,
and the only food, is the fruit of knowledge;
whose boundaries are marked, by thorny hedge,
and we, the people, will build in it,
temples of learning, altars of truth,
where capability is judged, mediocrity abolished,
the stones of this city will stand polished,
reflecting the sun, reflecting abomination
for ourselves we’ll build a nation.

The sun sets upon the horizon,
darkness creeps within,
and companion, old friend,
my loneliness returns to me,
Through the night,
as we sit by the fire,
me, and my loneliness,
we talk of old days,
of youth and bright dreams,
when the world seemed too small,
horizons, untold,
and every new day,
brought its songs of joy.
But now, the days are short,
the nights long,
winter frosts my windowpane,
and in my house,
upon the hill,
none live except me, and my loneliness.

We talk of old days, happy days,
when warmth and laughter lived with me,
and the welcome affections of my loved one,
and hope was born to me, my first born,
oh the stars in my eye,
the joy in my heart,
all the world seemed mine.

We talk then, of that day,
when news came from far,
a death, an old uncle of mine,
with none to tend him by,
“come soon” the letter said,
“Your uncle awaits his last rites”

So I left, with a hasty farewell,
not seeing the curse at my door

Oh how I wept that night,
when retuning, I saw my house in flames,
“robbers” the neighbours told me,
“they slayed your wife and child”,
They took my life with them,
and left me, alone, to live

I left that town,
where memories lived,
and built my house, upon this hill,
I lived alone, for a score of years,
and saw nor man nor beast,
and guilt, and remorse,
in tortured nights,
broke my weighted soul.
The years passed,
time tended my wounds,
and I found a new companion,
my friend, my loneliness.

The wind howls without,
the fire dies within,
and as I nod,
the benign reaper visits me,
for me to be lonely no more.

The power of silence, o’er that of sound,
the silence of the skies, and that of the ground,
echoing through, in lonely minds,
echoing through the bounds of time,
crashing, falling, in rolling thunder,
telling tales, of timeless plunder,
of values and thoughts, and integral deeds,
of right to subject, to the demands of need,

the power of silence, o’er that of sound,
a silent being, standing his ground,
for the rights of man, and all his deeds,
reaping the fruit, of forethought seed,
stands in silence, afore noisy crowds,
refusing to tread, along trodden roads,
the power of silence, o’er that of sound,
echoing clear and loud,

the power of silence, o’er that of sound,
of silent beings, who stood their ground,
for the rights of man, and all his kind,
to free the spirit, and free the mind,
for the sound of silence, echoes the land

Dressed in armour, riding a steed,
weapons in hand, they march with speed,
to conquer lands, for and unknown,
a ragged crowd, yet warriors of renown
They strike with fury, they **** with rage,
the greatest plague, to fall our age,
they raze the cities, destroy the crop,
they keep in business, a coroner’s shop.
Wild, uncouth, dressed in skins,
they play their games, with the head’s of kings,
short and squat, ugly to see,
on the point of a sword, they extoll their fee.
They are angels, riding from Hades,
smeared with blood, from their raids,
they shoot their arrows, with lightning speed,
they have no dearth, of grotesque deed,
of pale skin and slanting eyes,
they have the strength to darken the skies

Descended from him, the evil one,
they inspire fear, they blot out the sun,
they **** without mercy, they loot and plunder,
their arrival announced by fiery thunder,

They are from far, a distant land,
where all you see, is barren sand,
used to misery, living in dearth,
in multitudes of hordes, they overrun the earth.

These demons, creatures of doom,
spinning away, in a massive loom,
knitting a web, to ensnare humanity,
having no concept of mercy or pity,
eating flesh, feasting on blood,
they scour the earth, like a massive flood

These men, of barren sands,
of toughened body, and calloused hands,
striking fear, inspiring horror,
in conquered lands, hoisting their banner,
far and wide, much as I search,
I fail to find such warriors on earth.

The madness again takes hold of me,
arousing scintillating sensations to feel,
far away, I see a glow,
scores of wings, dipping low,
winged creatures, ruling the skies,
the earth echoes with their cries.

And then, from within the darkened sun,
come a score of demons on the run,
followed by the beast, gigantus,
and on his back is the beast himself,
born to the demon, execantus,
holding a torch, of infernal flame,
covering all with the light of shame,
making a vow, of events to come,
with rewards for a few, and destruction for some,
confining man to infernal subjugation,
watching from afar, the slavery of a nation
he laughs with mirth, he cackles for joy,
and lays the foundations, for his subtle ploy,
to trap mankind, and have his revenge,
slavery of years, and death to avenge
and he laughs aloud, he laughs for joy,
on seeing his foes, run and hide,
he hunts them down with considerable pride,
blinding their sight, with pungent fogs,
he chases them, like a pack of dogs
letting them neither rest nor sleep,
he draws his weapon, and plunges it deep.

My enemies are vanquished the ground is red,
the time has come to lie on my bed,
and sleep forever, in everlasting peace,
the sheep are naked, robbed of their fleece.

I am the godly, the god of gods,
the king of beasts, who overlords,
the sins of men, and of deaths,
the sin of sins, the deathly ghoul,
who tears the heart, and snatches the soul

The king of beasts, of evil deeds,
who burns the earth and sows the seeds,
of death and infamy, strife and rifts,
and the remains of mortals, covered by sand sifts,

I am Lucifer, Deus Optimus,
the king of all, mightier than Zeus,
who flies the night, spreading destruction,
******* blood, by the force of suction,
killing and maiming countless scores,
spreading pestilence, disease and morbid sores,
plunging his sword, through men’s hearts,
before him, the very earth parts.

I am darkness, black as ink,
god of corpses, and reddish drink,
that causes men to sway and swoon,
to think forever, of impending doom,
I am one, of despair and gloom,
who dries the earth and burns the bloom,
who reddens the sky and darkens the day,
the king of snakes, the wolve’s bay.

I am one who’s mightier than man,
the lowly one, of the highest clan,
the burning light that blinds the eye,
whose anger clouds and darkens the sky,
And yet I burn,I burn in hell,
I cry with pain , shout and yell,
surrounded by flames, and fiery blaze,
that sings the skin, and reddens the gaze,
for with the souls of all devoured,
of earth and sky, I became the lord.

Every day is counted,
every hour marks its tread,
the passing exceeding slow,
of lives tied by tenuous threads,
when empty hours of boredom,
fill the frozen dark,
and dark thoughts of boding,
fill my vacant mind
when the purposelessness of it all,
questions my brooding soul,
what for and where from,
whither to and why,
I ask, but answers none,
come to my restless thought,
but yet we lie under these rocks,
in this frozen waste,
each bearing a sordid banner,
of prejudice and hate,
they across the mountain’s line,
and I upon my shale,
and each blames the other,
for blinded, stilted fate,
to live for, or to die,
each in petty acts,
embroiled, unthinking, enmeshed,
by past and future deeds,
by distrust of man for man,
in solitude, enmity breeds.

A few strains of loneliness,
in the silent night,
I sing in my chamber,
beside the lantern’s light,
and songs heard on the radio,
evoke a longing,
for a companion by my side,
who’ll sing by my tune,
and share with me, my melodies,
of loneliness and joy,
and I’ll show her,
all the visions of my mind,
and joy’s kindle and love’s inspire,
shall our bodies bind;

A few strains of loneliness,
in the silent night,
thinking of her charms,
by the lantern’s light,
and counting the days,
until I return,
into her waiting arms,
she to me, and I to her,
in mind and body merged,
till each is the other,
the other no more.

In battle dwelt my mind ever,
in dark visions, and nightly dreams,
and etched were images of battles past,
hordes arrayed in savage might,
the fury breaks, of battle’s play,
my veins swell with fire,
and in a frenzy of shouts and blood,
my rage surrounds me, and around,
are laid paths of mutilation,
men torn and bled,
hacked by sword and bayonet,
till this fire of fury abates,
and sanity returns with panting breath,
and I turn to survey my deeds,
on this winter’s night,
when the snow was painted red,
and a few lives were ended,
and a few lives remained,
to dwell in battle’s thought,
ever, and yet again.

Atop a mountain throne, I sat,
amidst a war torn land,
and to all the limits of my domain,
through mountain tracks I trudged,
mountain lords, holding court,
amidst their halls of shale,
and yonder, from the mountain pale,
runs a narrow shaft,
from there, across an icy stream,
and brown jagged rocks,
and on, thereon, across the ridge,
runs the boundary line,
between my nation, and theirs,
they atop their mountain fort,
and I, in my halls of stone,
and each meets the other, every night,
across the mountains firth,
in parleys, of spoken words,
and blinking beams of light,
and mirth rules this frozen waste,
upon a silent night,
where we men, warriors brave,
with nature, and enemy, fight.

Ever homeless I wandered,
seeking new lands,
but nowhere could I find,
where my heart abides,
whither shall I go, I wonder,
where shall I belong,
in what haven shall I rest,
in joy and in song,
for ever land seems far,
and the journey is wrought with tears,
but a longing grows in me,
for a place where I belong,

Dark woods I saw,
and mighty cities of men,
in my journey I passed,
through heaven and through hell,
through all the mighty leagues,
of land and of sea,
I travelled with the winds,
but no place was there for me;
whither shall I go, I wonder,
where shall my heart abide,
what haven shall I find,
for the people of my kind.

Alone, sat the king,
upon his mountain throne,
up, atop a lofty height,
where the raven soared,
and his glance rode out,
on all the wide lands below,
upon whom his domain lay,
and to lands far beyond,
where dwelt his father’s kin,
he reached out in thought,
to seek a companion,
to sit beside his throne;
Far off, in sheltered lands,
dwelt a maiden fair,
who lived beside the seasome tides,
in the lands, of her father’s kin,
her beauty that of spring,
yet she, in loneliness,
let her thought to wing,
on across the distant plain,
and beyond the mountain shale,
to where the king sat,
upon his mountain throne;
In thought met, and kindled flame,
but neither had seen the other,
except in their mind’s vision,
and yet a call came to each,
that called one to the other.
What came, of this tale,
I know not yet, to tell,
but time swayed and fate conspired,
to bring each to the other,
that each deemed the other’s half,
to be whole together.

Exalt me in thee, O Lord,
for I am fallen to despair,
and have nowhere to turn, else thee,
no door opens to me,
nor any thought comes to my mind,
else thee,
in thee I seek solace,
as of one bereaved,
from thine divine glory,
that cast me to life,
and sent me, to thine creation,
to exist, and to learn of thee,
but mortal lands please me no more,
bereft of thy light,
here, squalor reigns supreme,
amidst halls of broken men,
and illusions are cast everyday,
that tempt me, from thine presence;
Exalt me in thee, O Lord,
that I may seek thee ever,
and so too, be in thine sight,
that I may follow where thee lead.

In this twilight of my soul,
when I stand betwixt darkness and light,
Lord be with me,
when I call to thee in fear,
and thy grace kindles my hope,
to meet the strife ahead,
for life, I do not ask of thee,
but only to live the next moments well,
to be as men might,
worthy of thy name.