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| Sometimes it feels as if I never want to let go. Just walk down through
the park in the mid-afternoon, a gentle breeze rocking the leaves
whistling a sweet tune for us to dance. As the storm clouds move, gray,
black, and streaks of light tearing away the day. The slight trickle of
water on grass turns to a downpour, like sheets upon glass windows. Oh
do I love the way you make me smile when I'm down. | | |
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It’s astonishing,
you know, the intricacy of cracks in the sidewalk. Growing slowly and
unnoticed, the darkest crevices hiding the most miraculous secrets. Paralleling
such loveliness, they exhume within utter silence the most startling treasure,
perfection without size, perfection unknown. No need for dialogue; it embraces
and embodies meaning without gloating. For beauty lies within silence. Second
by second, year by year, the development of these cracks augments like moss
upon bark of a tree. Within the depths of forest’s walls, a mirage of color and
light unite to form the battle field for life and death. All in front of man’s
eye like the façade of an ancient city, but overlooked without the clattering
shriek of noise. The secrets the silence holds are never revealed. The splendor
of the unnoticed, the silent, and the microcosmic vanish within the clamor of
man and his arrogance.
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| Darkness imprisons the delicacies
And timeless fortune binds within
Hampered joys of youthful burden.
And night falls to day. (Again)
Yet the intricate fathoms
Of microcosmic farces
Blossom into grandeur decors of hope.
Tears of infamy
Fall like seeds from
Blooming lilies.
From the ears of my eyes
The pain within souls of time
Seep into my dreams
Like bestowing burdens
Upon newborn kin.
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| And when all the days have faded to night and all the nights to day, and when all the time is spent and all the dreams have been dreamt, the insignificance of oneself shall show. For how can one live with nothing? How can someone feel significant with nothing to give, nothing to live for? | | |
| Dreaming of another day
When together the crowd is faced
In the sprouting mists of spring air
And the ever frosted
Falls of winter.
The hearts of all souls
And the ears of all eyes
Pour their desires in cups of sacrifice
Leaves of blooming flowers
Blossom the fragrance of time
And the lifeless ambitions
Of dying fates endure
Through the days.
Yet, the breath of evenings
Dine with the depths of
The morning's revival
Time prolongs its fate within
The eternal growth of others
Through the pain
Oneself encompasses
Lifts them past the heights of giants. | | |
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