My poetry.

 

Fallen

Alone in the dark i wrote

Notes that said naught

About life and a cup

Half full I say,

Of sacrilegious poison

Jesus,God,Help.

Murder she wrote,

Treason confounds me.

Do it Do it Do it

The voices rage,the die cast

I am your bleating lamb

Yesterday,today and nevermore.

Fear is a faithless tool

For the weary,heavyhearted

A toast to your worthless legacy

They fill my blood with a chalice

And cry Serafin and Cherubim

Like Capote, In Cold Blood.

Somewhere over the rainbow

Lies a silver lining

A noose in disguise

Where William Wallace fought

His guts they straightened neat

Integrity was his greatest fiend.

Wouldst they fight Sun Tzu's war

Or heeded Machiavelli that Prince?

Yet righteously,did the saints march

Crying Freedom, Faith and Honor

Like Joan of Arc,martyr now

Witch,heretic and insane once.

A masquerade this is

Survival of the fittest none the least

Be a serpent or an innocent flower

Or both it is together

Is this Nature or Nurture

Or a taming of my shrew?

A lion without claws I am

But a lion neverthless roars

The sleeper wakes a hundred years

Charged,refreshed and agille

Come then,all your wicked spears

I thrust them to the Lord.

He heaps burning coals on my nemesis

Their heads burn,their masks tear

I see u and u see me

Even Lucifer calls upon His name

I see your horns there angel

Fallen like the masks u held.

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Sunset

i see the clouds yonder

clouds of melancholy wisdom

crying fraility,crying anguish

Suppression.

misty fog dresses my eyes

shapes my soul,my fingertips

tracing my outline,sketching my being

Solitary star.

when will the tears from the wet sky fall

drown the heaviness of my melancholy

flood this town of ignomity?

Misunderstood.

i spot the distant sky painted with the hues of dusk

as the sun hangs limpidly

Waiting.

for the final beats of eternity,

for finality

Forever.

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The Circle

The heavens drizzle and flashes ashen gray

The commuters freeze in confused unison

As the hap hazardous traffic clout chaos

Still the sun shines

As the birds fly

I'm over being over.

A man lies languidly,homelessly

Another struts by immaculately

As winter opposes spring

So do movies with James Dean

Juxtapose a Steinway's keys

I'm over being over.

The Bell will still toll

The Hours will still tick

As will Pride with Prejudice

So will Sense and Sensibility

With such Great Expectations.

I'm over being over.

Lambs will squeal ceaselessly

From such bloodied slaughterhouses

As eagles-hawks brutalize their prey

Sons are fathers and sons again

So will roses bloom in May

I'm over being over.

Life and Death will whirl

In such simple basic cycles

As close as Love is to Hate

As true as Wuthering Heights

Of love and pain in Murakami

I'm over being over.