Monthly Archives: February 2015



They’re so loud,
And all I hear
Is the sound
So insincere.
Voice in my head
Seldom are lucid.
Just noise, dead.
Not words, fluid.
I cannot sleep,
This loud noise,
I feel like a sheep,
Being led by that voice.
Now all along
I search to hear,
A soothing song,
To calm my fears.
This sound and me,
And my head drum,
Will search and see,

Dying Memory


Once in passing you kissed the blue
And then you had kissed me too,
Everything I say is true,
Listen to the things I tell you.
Before you sleep beneath the stone,
Hold my heart and know its home.
Know it before the cold,
Takes you far from this soul.
Remember this, remember me.
Remember this and then when we,
Were our first true loves, you’ll see,
Every thing as it used to be.
Our first hug and our first kiss,
Life back then was such bliss.
I said with you I can get through this.
But you sit there and forget this.
Know my home! Know my heart!
From my love do not depart!
And once then that you start,
I’ll come back and I’ll be part
Of your heart and soul once more.
Opening slowly this locked door,
I see sparkles in your eyes before,
They grow dim again and out pour
All that they had held in life.
But I will sleep in peace tonight
Knowing I’ll see you again in light,
Knowing you remembered and your sight,
Restored me to your mind, once there
I knew you knew! I breathed fresh air!
Now I’m by your stone dreaming of your face so fair,
I wait,
Patiently. When we can be together there.



Every single small and flickering light,
Right outside of your even smaller door,
Burning, glowing rather, glowing so bright.
So many times we’ve gazed at them before,
That they then appear to become so dull
And less brilliant in moments such as these,
That we must ask, and then these questions mull:
“What are the origins?“ And “What are the keys? ”
“What are these lights that burn eternally?”
So God made them and science to prove how.
Now each one spins and glows infernally,
Each one imposing, pull all to a bow.
What can I do but admire this way,
Even when they are all so far away.

Your Nest


From the ground oh so cold,
An ashen gray arm shows
Reaching outward, gripping air,
Wishing something to be there.
What to be there you say?
Suffice it is not you I pray,
For when its eyes break ground,
Meet them, and your hearts sound,
Will be the only one to fill your ears,
Nothing else but terrible fears,
Will be all that you feel.
Take a look, at yon tombstone, kneel,
Whose name is it that you see?
Is it wholly beyond belief?
Now ask why the arm doth grasp.
Ask why your name does rasp,
Through its dead, decaying throat.
Your name through the air, it floats,
Now you hear. In disbelief,
You look at me; I’ll give no relief.
What I tell you, it is true.
As the gray arms hold you,
Closer now you see,
You are just a soul, a spirit and me,
I am he who guides you,
Back into your ashen arms.
There no paradise awaits you,
But forever kept from harm.
Fifty years, only a blink
And only bones are left,
Though still safe inside I think.
Sleep well within your nest.

Just to clarify, this is nothing of what I think of the afterlife, I just wanted to try to describe a monster rising out of the ground, and then the poem morphed into describing a zombie sort of thing. :p hope you enjoyed it.

To Die In Lies


Twenty times he told the truth.
Half that though,
Were only lies.
Every time it was to sooth,
The weakened boughs,
Of his tree of life.
After twenty he believed,
One and twenty
Was too much.
At that moment it conceived,
His mind, of plenty,
Lies not good enough.
No longer could he convince,
His soul receive,
The unreal.
The darkness and its prince,
Now deceived
What he used to feel.
What is goodness? What is wrong?
Questions invalid,
Asked of a fool.
The answer lies; in morality belongs
Of a man intrepid,
Knows the rules.
But too late, two and twenty past.
A chance missed,
The fool remains.
Six and twenty makes thirteen times,
Each lie kissed,
A fools remains.

My First Defense


All these words cause my cold blood to quicken,
Strangely though for who bought them? I’m the one.
Now all around me my shell it thickens,
And I am wishing for the daylight sun.
I am stirred here in my first reaction,
And find comfort in my first defense.
With the glowing wonder of a black sun,
I find my first, the wrong side of a fence.
For how are we to know the beautiful,
If there is nothing lesser by its side?
How can we know joy beyond the painful,
Without accepting them to coincide?
The next time a question finds me, retreat,
Will not be my first defense in conceit.

The Explorer


Once upon a time a man,
He, in doing all he can,
Took it upon himself to land ,
On a particular bank of sand.
Once he was there he saw,
A thing not unlike a maw,
And the frightening open jaws,
Of a ferocious, vengeful dog.
From the treetops, a ravens cry,
Though nothing there that he could spy.
He thought it was perhaps a lie,
And he would only believe his eye.
For feigned comfort, to himself did say:
“I’ll see clearly with light of day.
No matter ravens or dogs,I’ll remain brave.
These shadows! This mind! What tricks they play!”
But it was too much this fear.
He began to run but stopped in the clear.
“I can’t run, my goal is near!
If I stop now I’ll be unable to face my mirror!”
He pressed on though the fear did not leave.
There was a corner in his mind to which it cleaved.
He was successful in that he did deceive, When he said: “These fears aren’t real, do not believe.”