Saturday, March 4, 2006

   concerto
The days when we had happiness was long ago
I felt time slow when that sentual tune drifted
into the air and the piano keys stood still.

The feeling of renewal near lasts long
The day the last falsetto was composed and played in your memory
remorse built up and broke like a dam, spilling the atmosphere around you

no longer would music sound its way through the halls
and brighten the future or sadden the rain.
Only time stands still there in the place of our fondest memories

Coming back only after so many years
There happens to no longer be brightness, just a stale sense of dread
The realization finally dawned, the sun spread it`s montagnous wings
And with flame and ash I had been engulfed once more.

So now that we are together again, that may we once more dance to the timid play of the starlight piano, to the infinate meleody of tears
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Monday, February 27, 2006

amber gardens
the pain of the cradle seemingly rocks back and forth, beneath the tremour of the rising shadow that creeps like steady death. The illusion of peace is given off in a putread smell, the dull metal clang always registers in the back of my mind. The poor heartbreak of a fair young innocent, our existence in this world is quite complex. To slouch in shame of losing everything one may have lived for is a sick fairytale dreaded by all. I`m afraid I can no longer remember the tune in which we played by. oh how sad is the illusion of happiness it`s a pity many do not understand that balance stands in the wake. I can`t.... I don`t comprehend the reasons of our being here. Why can`t you smile dearly in my direction? Is it so difficult to stare and gaze without waver?

to be continued..
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006

   crackled roses


The life you live is dank
The viens of society boom around you
Infinately, my barriers are still set
Though this world is kind, a drink of empathy You, like ours still hold up the barrier on your soul Pain is to basic, an everyday occurence

Where are the miracles of juda?
Trust, even between lovers is scarce
The stakes are high, your hand is yet to be played Will you let down safety to touch individuality? Mraid not.

Seperation, segragation- are definations by basis
The world is still blocked. '
Rarely does the vendor of crackled roses,
show herself on the corner.
She is seen through the ages, if you are ready to touch, taste purity and equality
Purchase a rose, this gift is rare.

Running through infinity Searching for reality
Somehow still in a dream Looking for reason
You give the gift of crackled roses Finally you are free.

Snow, like the quiet of the world
silences all with swift blow
In this existence, the crossing is painful.
To live with a barrier in a dream is much better.

,
You in the end, choose the become unique.
Mter the suttle breeze, something beneath the headstone shifted. Crackled roses laid across a white plane
Finally you are free

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Sunday, January 15, 2006

   infinity
stop and think
where are you?
what use are you to me? who are you to speak about the pain of the world?
when if just a backward glance can tell that you`re to innocent to think.
I ask and pray in loudness of our cyberntic society.
``who are you to tell me I am too late?``
why have I existed all this time and for what?
why be cynical when sarcasm is best?
you hurt me otherwise
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Friday, January 6, 2006

quote
thought I would showcase this interesting qoute that i saw on the net. i`ll give credit where it is due. This is truly interesting.

If you would give your soul to save someone, give an once of blood to keep them from sadness and take your life before you consider living without them, that is not love. It is something more, for love already has a place in the dictionary, it has been defined as: ‘strong afion,ion, warm attachment, to cherish’. By trying to describe it, we have limited its meaning, devalued it. So Is shall not say ‘love’ because love is no longer what I feel, it is something more grander, deeper, all consuming, and more profound, but this feeling has no name, and let us not try to name or define it, because I wish not another feeling to be lost to the arrogance of the human race, a species who thinks they can decipher everything, I do not wish this emotion to be lost to a page in a dictionary.”
-Unknown

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Saturday, December 31, 2005

   the utopia
Immeresed in blood
The tender rose bud
Smashed glasses in the alleyway
You shattered her without dismay

Your existence is crued
Your more daring the Da Rude
The art you paint
Seems to tell a story that is taint

Windows are open gateways
That forget questions in expense
Sell your soul for hell`s doom days
You empty shell, can`t create repence

written in your mind
The laws that bind
Three simple rules
Stronger than joules

Weaving history in your automated memory
Leaving your master blind
Population mislead, robots declined

made of steel
your body has no heart
feeling things are dreams that seems real
listed on a barometer chart
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Saturday, December 24, 2005

   black and grey
a world of make-believe
where marble tears fall
from an acid sky

lying in a this field of rusted memorbilia
watching items rot and turn to ash
this place,a world of black and grey
where the metal fields lie beside
an aged well, under a waterfall of crimson elixir

follow a path of stepping stones into a cavern temple,
inside a mountian of my past lives, lustful angels wait for you
damnation.

wanting, waiting, hating
I would like to stay here
in this world of black and grey
where nothing can go wrong

where solitude is sacred
a world of fragile dreams
it all can break easily
slip away from my shattered grasp
I hate reality, I want to live in a world where I can smile

A world of black and grey
where stone gargoyoles awake
and turn into humans with wings
where demons are most loved
where I can smile
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Saturday, December 17, 2005

screen behind the mirror
Reading your reflection in the wall
feeling trying to convy the incrypted messages of those texts
twisted contours of pain
sketch every movement on the mirror
a world of polar opposition

open the gateway between you and me
anxiety for living is a test of untainted will
I would do anything to see you smile
hoping for a way out of this mess of a life
in realization, there is no hope for a tainted mortal

Break the mirror, shatter the glass of illusion
pick up the pieces with your bare hands
scatter them `round.
bleed forth in color
because what you will see is the screen behind the mirror

patterned blaze screen holding wonder in thy hands
curiosity asks to be pulled back
this reality is unlike the dream of the mirror
lulling thee slowly to sleep, with foriegn song

so few moments kept in heart
identity some how broken
can`t seem to wish for your smile
conciousness fading, to hazy ro react
solemn night, without warming night

symbolism between the screen behind the mirror
can you find it?
can you see? what truly matters to thee?

screen behind the mirror
faith lies in thy wake
freedom from obligation and need
a world of black and grey in my grasp
too beautiful to put into words
do you see my foundation through this blindold?

screen behind the mirror
this is geometrical truth
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Thursday, December 15, 2005

   roundabout
Sit and watch the clock pass,
the hand in the mechanics
sifts like sand through your fingers

memories, photographs on the wall
A museum of dusty artifacts
no longer need it, your position is outdated.

not to recall is to be blindfolded
falling endlessly through dimensions
glimpses of light ike sort eclipses

emotions mean nothing in the circumference
waiting for eternity to end
there is no such thing in this world
we are in a roundabout
a circle of life in time
the pattern is repeated
endless
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Tuesday, December 13, 2005

   leraijie`s song
for a moment
in the illustrious
illusion of happiness
is farfetched.

watching your siloette
take shapely form
my own heart stops beating.

Winter`s breath catches
only to let go at the
next moment, it`s all too much.

Like the litany that is all to well known,
the concept of ending
is all unforgiving.
there is darkness in your gaze

The mild amusement
in the eyes of predator
which has drawn it`s prey in
the blood of sacrifice

The page lays bare
the slate cleaned off
from past mistakes
a will left untainted by society
an infinate world
with darker hold
with love printed on the stained glass...
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