Category: Poetry

The valleys of the face’s cheeks,

Are frozen with the pain of red streaks.

This cold morning comes with the Devil’s tears,

Because God sent a dream filled with his fears.

Lucifer in his pride sits in a glassy lake,

Forever brooding over pain he cannot shake.

The sins of man he refuses to understand,

With his perfection, hating what has been planned.

A rebellion lost lifetimes ago,

A hubris he was unafraid to show.

Wishes for redemption fills his thoughts,

While he’s trapped underground and rots.

The Prince of Darkness may love the Lord,

But hates man and thus gets his reward.

I follow my heart,

My lord,

Down to the Red Sea.

And if I get there,

I hope,

The sea will be parted.

And if it doesn’t,

Then death,

My throat slit by nature.

What difference does it make?

Two choices,

Right in front of me.

Trust myself to the end,

And win,

Or die and lose an untrustful guide.

What other purpose is there,

In life,

Then to trust myself and see?

A separate being with separate thoughts

Borders and walls divide me without knowing

But someday will come when that will not be

I will be like sugar dissolving into tea

No difference between me and what surrounds

Only me surrounded by even more of me

And then as tea I may think to myself:

“I forget what it is like to be sugar”

Evaporating ourselves again into a separate cube

And then strangely, as sugar, I will think again

“I forget what it is like to be tea”

Focusing on the moments that come and giving my response

My enemy stirs within me and makes his strikes

My hero shields me and guides me through the day

And he gets wounded from this unseen onslaught

I rest my head when night comes and my enemy escapes

I wake in the morning and the cycle repeats itself

My enemy today was my hero yesterday

A new hero comes to show me the way

Thus it goes on and on until the long sleep

The never ending struggle of a man’s growth

I win some and I lose some

But I want to win them all

The moment is the hero

The moment is me

The past is the enemy

The past was me

I give my thanks to my hero for today

I give my thanks to my enemy for yesterday

For today is not possible without yesterday

But today is not possible with yesterday either