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One tear... dearly spent. (Act-I)
I see their faces, they, the unloved ones, dry eyes, no smiles, just a stark and desperate gaze, bereaved of care, hope, love.
Each little face gazing bleakly on through the fractured glass of a picture frame, but not at me...
I lay it down, gently. For I'll find no comfort in it, only remnant shards of a forgotten memory, one soon to pass with me long into the halls of eternity.
This the equal sum of all my years. One just memory, fare earned, bought at a fair price, one of ill deeds and a blackened soul.
I feel pain, for myself, for this world, for the last time. Also fear, so real to me now, that he, this dark loathsome one, would leave me behind.
Unwanted as unworthy, to remain here, a fool in purgatory.
The cold now grips me as if embraced by it, just as a mother would an inconsolable child.
I look into the deepest dark, and ask him. "What is Hell like?" He took no notice, and ask me for the time.
But his question went unanswered, for the
PetrichorI walk without an errand for the mind.
I must be homeless.
Neighboring enclaves separate our spaces,
belie their builders’ mirthless exhaustion.
Not even necessity can be blamed
for these mud-struck, brittle gourds,
these quick nests of vasculous organs
pulsing with their peculiar tyrannies,
briefly scuttling from their hovels
like sun refugees
darting into gleaming storefronts
waffled in concrete misery
all to forestall the end of their souls.
Where can we go when we only want to breathe?
Sitting in a park bench,
trillion-visioned, crowned with galaxies,
I can rest my weary invention.
I sense the weight of an unseen player,
a secret stratagem
as she moves her piece into the glade.
I’m set in place, yet unopposed.
Uncombined with lovers, children,
the slow parade of trees and heat,
I lay beside these stalwarts,
at once, still and hurtling
throughout the travesty of time.
I assemble a cumulus intelligence
near the playground,
threatening Summer with three days
EnchantedA golden apple tang
Heralds summer's brightest fire
But I prefer to amble in
In the darkest corners
There are no haunted whispers
And only caramel shadows
Transfer daylight's memories
For unto me the stars
Snapping leaves leading moonlight
Are not my coldest lonely hour
But a renewal of soul
Desperate for YouDay by day
Block by block
Tree by tree
Tear by tear
Day by day
Trials and temptation at my door
As the grass grows in the world
My soul being put to the test
Day by day
Every hour and every second
Realizes that I am desperate for the Lord
For the Lord to hold me from falling
Lord, I'm desperate for You
My heart tears and wears from a lack of Your wisdom
I thirst and hunger for You
Lord, You hear my cries and You know that I am desperate for more of You
Lord, You are the only who fills my lungs with air
Lord, You are the only that speaks words into my mouth
Lord, You are the only one that makes my heart beat louder than drums
I'm desperate for more of You; Lord, I'm desperate for You
Teach me Lord to worship You with all that I am on my knees
To depend on You and have Your way in every part of my life
Lord, I am desperate for more of Your love
Lord, I am desperate for more of You in my life
You are the only one that will last forever
You are the only one that will love forever
You are t
hauras (fragments)English version below
kastepisara kielon luomessa
peitteesi lehden suojassa
heräsit unestamme aamuun
in a dream,
a dewdrop on a petal
in the shadow of your leaves
you awoke from our dream
a new morning
your tears and i to mist;
yesterday to oblivion.
Soul of fire;
Yet always the same.
Shall I write to thee
On this hot summer day,
While I wait for the paint to dry?
Who so many fear and loathe
To the very last day that they live.
Who so effortlessly stole my heart
Before I knew I had one to give.
Parent of monsters;
A term so subjective,
As you and I know
So very well.
Shall you smile again
In the face of adversity,
And every wound and weakness belie?
As you do,
By telling naught but truth.
As you must,
To frail sensitivities soothe.
You are not,
Though you'll pretend to it
You can be,
Upon no terms but your own,
Free and untameable spirit;
You belong to none
Yet, for better or worse,
To any and everyone else.
Psychedelia Dementia.Yellow night,
this alien world is so bright,
there is no darkness here only glorious light.
The grass is red and gold,
and the trees are shades of purple,
I feel this world is old,
in the distant there are mountains of silver and marble.
With every breath I take,
with an easy pace I make,
every step takes me closer to a lake,
am I dreaming or am I awake?
The lake is liquid glass,
sparkling crystalline gas,
lightning trapped underneath,
beats with a rhythm of a heart!
And as I draw closer,
I hear the music of this world,
I feel it's taking me over,
suddenly the surroundings whirled.
I look up to a familiar sky,
blackness of space greets me,
something inside me feels hollow and all I want to do is cry,
if I close my eyes forever then maybe I can come back and see.
The absense of colour drives me insane,
this place is too plain,
I must find a way to go back and stay forever,
and I don't want to leave ever.
PurposeFuturistic elements of produce and will
Define the rationality of wisdom and skill
Greatness transforms out of the might in understanding
Conducting with love, truth and commanding
Time dictates the depth of exposure
And ruptures the walls of insightful enclosure
Within is the key to open your heart
Uniting each piece in equal part
Messages are received in moments of glory
Bringing treasures and gifts embodied in story
Yesterday's thoughts hinder space
Wisdom comes through in faithful grace
"Knowing that it is not who you are
Sheds the wound revealing a scar
You are a star
With unlimited potential to raise the bar"
Harmony brought through balance of kin
Sharing in fears the healing begins
Concentration a strength to shift roads
Fighting for rights and releasing loads
Allowing for acceptance from others
Our friends our fathers, our beloved mothers
Will fill cups and fire homes
Reaching over and under and arriving at thrones
Destiny is in the making of men
Playing a melody that in
Body, Soul, Spirit.
Let Eros be Lord
Let Aphrodite be sword
Let me find beauty in lust
Let me find beauty in the self
Let me find beauty in union unfettered.
Sacred fire, holy pyre.
Sense, Reason, Intuition.
Let Athena be owl
Let Hermes be serpent
Let me be Moderation
Let me be Fortitude
Let me be Prudence
Let me be Justice
Let me be Katharsis
Let me be Illumination
Let me be united with the divine Nous.
Four hallowed elements, four sacred steps.
Material Rite, Mental Rite, Unitive Rite.
Let Helios be gold
Let Hekate be silver
Let me offer sunbolon
Let me chant sunthemata
Let me ensoul statues
Let me bind to you a god
Let me purify with a touch
Let me form sustasis with daimones
Let me be reborn like a solar phoenix
Sacred offerings rewarded with divine light.
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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