The night is still young
where are my lovers

sleeping ere the night
they have to keep awake

and

dance all night with their mates
as I harshly sing

sing in tunes unknown
my words like beads strewn

as in an abacus
you know what is tis

no! sad you have so far grown
sadly but gladly unknown...

Come along now
dance with me....

    Love a feeling that everyone in the world wants, but only thosewho know what it is can define . The type of feeling that is unconditional in every way but is also hard to find to those who have not been convinced on the lie that society has told that love is condensed to a certain type of person or poeple and not on the shared originality that all mankind are born to have.

I see you bloom in your words,
telling your story and declaring to the whims of fate
that your soul will always be free as a bird
and the pain has not made your write degrade
but spins further in a new tapestry,
the unique fabric of feelings that defines who you are,
a powerful piece of beautiful memory,
the glory of the spirit that shines like a star.

harbouring from yesterday's fest
thinking what's beyond death
foresee's these future wrecks
ponders inside this beat up chest

as the body lay down to rest
memories flashes before these eyes
smiles creeping its way to place
from rendezvous bliss of haze

Never bolt anything down;
don’t brand it,clamp it,

Affix it to yourself, nor
claim it as your own.

The wind will blow it
astray in time.

The sand will cover it.
verdigris will creep and,

Rust which never sleeps,
Will eat it anyway.

Instead:
Polish it, preserve it,

Repair it, conserve it.
love it for a while, and,

If it’s fragile,
then mourn it should

It wither away.
We all succumb to some decay.

But of those precious thoughts,
we’re all concealing:

Potent plump pause
curve stretch cloud
scratched by limbed
black crow studded
outlines
a shawl of escarpment
Exclamatory lights
refreshing pools
of dusk dreams dreary
dance

CONFLAGRATION III

deamons flying in the night
shadows black across moonlight.
Heaven’s Wars had ended
and the Fallen Ones
once Heaven’s Delight
carried the mark of treachery
in their hellish, twisted forms
for no evil can be hidden long.
then Man was created to the likeness
of the Maker of all things, and to him
was given a Soul in which lay the seed
of his splendor…and his fall

THE TRILOGY

CONFLAGRATION I

Rivers are not lazy...

It’s we human only
who tend to go slow
rivers continue to flow
ere the banks overflow
and
cause floods
which even Gods wouldn't know
how to un-flow

so rivers of life as we all now know
continue to flow
as before
no matter how lazy we are.

all are in waiting on the far bank
hope we all swim by
the lazy river of strife
you all now deliver
as a river of life
so very inordinately slow