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Upon Bangor Mountain
There is a voice that I can not deny,Coloured into the hues of a lullaby.Denying everything;All the joys and the nothings,all the symphonies of the passers-by. There is a voice that shall not die —Whispers into each goodbye,screaming hellosunto a starless sky of blues.Uttering breeze of a bashful muse.Then unto the doves of a budtime
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Night Talk
At last! I come in soot and sweat,In rust, in mud and dust and blood,I come half alive, half dead;Yet cursed as much as blessed by God.I come at last to rest my head.at last, I rest,and tell myself I did my best… At last! I come unfettered by regret,Untriumphant, yet unbroken,Half conquering, half conquered,with
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A Masque for the Four Seasons
Winter passed & so will spring.It’s a solitary thing;Watching seasons go on by.Knowing — one day you will die;Such a dreary thought to think! Made for Love and worshipping,Spring was always true and new,singing songs known by a few.It wore the shrine of the divine,Bearing love, out of Goodbyes,Kissing answers to all whys,For what winter
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Stigmata
Arise, Arise O’ morning wind;and speak of rain, of abject painof searing stars — of godly wars,and all the wicked men who sinned,and blow the sons of Man and God,and all who dare transcend my blood,and fill my cage, and feel my rage,and tell me — one more time — I’m God. Arise, Arise, unsheath your
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Winter Ghosts
Because we choose the Loves we lackNot those we dare to act;Because we pick the loves we wantNot those that keep us intact; Because we travel ages backWe seize to find ourselves;Because the future do us tauntWe seize to be ourselves;& over time we cease to see —the ones we meet are much as we.&
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The Son of Man
There must be time where this began; When I became, as spoke my name — the son of Man. There must be time where all ends meet, where all would pass, break, and beat, Where endings die, the day they greet the renaissance of Man. — There must be time where this began; Where I…
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Letter I: I still feel you — a ghost inside my heart.
I still feel you — a ghost inside my heart. I still stumble at your portrait and stray, Then wonder how I loved you at the start.
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Do not open the seal
Do not fall in love; do not feel. Do not listen nor watch nor think. Do not tell yourself it’s real. Do not sleep nor rest nor blink. Cower in each wound and bruise, If stricken by that wretched muse. Veil in the shadows of your soul. Fight through the fall. Fight through the fall. Refrain,
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Fareeda
I wage the war against your demon’s reign; & fight in you, with you through the unsaid. I claim your heart and claiming is my bane. I barter lives leaving my breath to wane. I utterly trade thine by mine instead. I wage the war against your demon’s reign. I kiss despair goodnight to welcome
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Mila
Between the lashes of your eyes, You captured Love wildly; You spawned the doors of trust. You paved the hells of lust, and approached my heart childly. That when — into the darkest hour — you bloomed out of my barren earth, auguring that everlasting spring. That age of ceaseless worshipping, a ceaseless glow, and flow,
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