Wishes...

The road keeps meandering away,
The storm holding me at bay,
Leaves of life blowing astray,
All I can do is pray...

The Stranger's smiling at me,
His wicked eyes I feebly see,
Stinging me with His stubborn rope,
All I can do is hope...

The Friend fades to black,
His voice is just an audible crack,
I see His blessings burn,
All I can do is yearn...

Thoughts swimming against the rough sea,
What is...What's meant to be?
The Stranger snickers hard at me,
The Friend solemnly stares at me,

The light's dimming...darkness galore,
The cloud's thickening...the skies roar,
Holding a leaf with solemn pride,
I fling it to the other side...

Flickering lights

The dark envelope stretches long before him,
The road's straight, the lights dim,
His voice drowns in the blaring song,
The mind's fuzzy, the spirit's strong.

He ponders, a look of restless concern,
The road meanders ahead, a slight turn,
The zooming cars pass him in a flash,
Flickering lights...don't be so rash...

He stares blankly...the fight with his girl,
An exchange of words, the ugly twirl,
The time to think, the unknown beyond,
Flickering lights...the shattered bond?

His body feels warm, an illusion of ease,
The wind's chilly now...the dense trees,
The words of his mind, an illegible font,
Flickering lights...what do you want?

His pulse is fast, the steering's fickle,
The movie of his past...a soothing tickle,
The end's uncertain, a fading gleam?
Flickering lights...what's your dream?

The hands freeze, The turn begins,
The trees replace the road, the car spins,
The medics arrive, their faces grim,
Flickering lights...can you save him?

Her First Song

As the silent river, she gently flows,
Her rhythmic waves echo softly,
As the sparkling dew, she radiantly glows,
Her quiet drops beat calmly.

Her words are crystal clear
As she speaks her heart out,
She has no vice to fear,
As she speaks of her own doubts.

She stops to catch her breath,
As the walls resonate her voice,
She signals the stop's death,
As she slowly breaks the ice.

The passer-byes stand still.
As she whispers into their ears,
She has a wish to fulfill,
As she overcomes her own barriers

As the words end, she smiles,
The river ceases to flow,
She's ready for the trial,
As she completes her show.

Shaky ground

The ground sprawled before his tiny eyes,
Echoing with the sounds of his childish cries,
The ground had space, the child had time,
Together, they swayed in this timeless rhyme.

The man walks the dim-lit hallway,
Thoughtful eyes, mind in play
The closed walls echoing his silence,
Time was scarce, his ground - tense.

The flurry of cool breeze in his hair,
The expressions of unthought care,
The playful stings of the ground,
In pain, joy was easily found.

The man sips the bland coffee,
Poisoned by the futile work spree,
His face reflects his somber tale,
Helplessly bound in his own jail.

Time passes by like epic prose,
The ground shrinks, the child grows,
The theory of evolution wins,
An age ends, another begins.

The new ground came up fast,
A stark shadow of its past,
The space was small, emotions nil,
And His happy world became stony still.

Fly High

The music's booming in your ears,
Blaring loud like your skimpy dress,
The cheers with overflowing beers,
Your brain, they shall together caress.

The light's capering in myriad hues,
Flickering fast like your blurry eyes,
The wobbly legs in expensive shoes,
Your mind slowly turning to ice.

The heads beating in rhythmic motion,
Shaking hard like your stomach fluids,
The frenzied body in fiery commotion,
Your mouth spurting the smelly fluids.

Hands clasped around unknown waists,
Long hair scattered on young faces,
Periodic kisses with alcoholic tastes,
Your pulse nervously races.

Brash laughter and fake smiles,
Hideous tattoos and navel rings,
Tripping down in dramatic style,
Your heart quietly stings.

Fly high, boy, for it's your reign,
Fly high, girl, for it's your cash,
Fly high, for it's your drain,
Fly high, for it's a cursory flash.

The Knell Song

It was a gray day in Autumn,
When the trees were all solemn,
When the sun lost it's light,
When...their day became night.

The leaves lay yellow on the streets,
The birds lost their cacophonous greets,
The black dog sobbed on the grey wall,
Their number had just become small...

The brown grass lost their rainy shine,
In barren grounds idling like rusty shrines,
The concrete towers radiated dark shadows,
Their tears...their grass-less meadows...

The vultures' mouths were all red,
The dying crow stared with a half-head,
The western breeze lost it's voice,
Their hopes...their unchosen choice...

The distant church bells silently rang,
The skies watered, the swan sang,
The priest quietly spoke his words,
They closed their eyes, vision blurred,
Hands clasped, they recited a final prayer,
As the coffins were lost under the sandy layer.

Dreams

The warm whiskey trickling down the throat,
The ash from the fireplace, a rhythmic note,
The high of the spirit, the spirits are low,
The pale face glows against the outside snow.

The hourglass spinning lazily on the aged table,
Each drop a grim reminder of the nostalgic fable,
A time to treasure, a time magically lost,
Life or time?...A lifetime has its cost...

The fading pictures hanging on the shabby walls,
From their false smiles, a teary shadow crawls,
Tears of happiness, the shadow of stark regret,
Reflecting sadly on the vision that has set.

The rusty trophies in the forsaken showcase,
A petty symbol, once a sign of proud grace,
The pride's a relic, a pride of dark sorrow,
Staring in contempt at the unthought morrow..

The fire goes out, the eyes hazy...dim,
The story of life now just a swan hymn,
Unmindful of the wistful passing years,
Sleeping through a gaze of hollow spheres.