Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for February, 2017

Petals of roses, petals of crimson hues so ancient
Laid now on these solemn words of this world.
Was I in a dream, or was I well treading through
The feathers and tossed among the wings of angels?
There are now stones thrown on paltry sculptures
And fear reaming through the veins of that victory.
What was the dream? What was the dream?
Shouted the old man on the same crossroad.
If we can pause, if we can breathe the same air
we started our journey, and touch of the breeze.

We fake to whom if not the soul, to gather hope
To face the truth of that dream we love so much.
Our journey can’t be an epitaph over that stone
If not the honest air among the moonlit nights.
Settle O’ soul, there’s so much peace in passion;
There’s the possibility of life when we are gone.
I will write again, take hues from those petals
And hymn though the marble into the sculpture.

Hope is in those eyes that surround us all through.
We will rise again to peace and fall again in love.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

And we judged the play with our pestered intellect,
But not with the heart that beats through time.
One dream dies, one more is born, a dream we live.
Among propelling prophecies of sultry stones so straight,
There surely will be foliage that will grow and rhyme;
What seeds we sowed, how we watered and hope give
more wings for the dream to lives so more abject,
and undaunted by the flickering thoughts of our race.

Leave now, drop the thought that burns your soul.
Not timid at all, nor meaningless the pursuit is;
Every King dies, every empire falls, victory will brawl
Amid changing thoughts that push the other piece.
The sky is vast, it ought to be for so many dreams
Trade through it, some sail, some wait for the wind.
Walk every step with trust, breathe the air of freedom.
Let every touch heal and smile more till we are home.

Read Full Post »