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Literature Text
Beautiful soul,
Never stop trying,
For while some live,
Others are dying
And others have grown weary
From the sighing and crying
Over their loved ones
Who in the earth are lying,
But someone must do the task
Of carrying on
And protecting the ones not yet gone,
So prepare yourself for the morning light
And never forget to remember to fight.
Never stop trying,
For while some live,
Others are dying
And others have grown weary
From the sighing and crying
Over their loved ones
Who in the earth are lying,
But someone must do the task
Of carrying on
And protecting the ones not yet gone,
So prepare yourself for the morning light
And never forget to remember to fight.
Literature
The memiors of a poet...
A poet is no mere
artist, that incites and writes,
- but dares to
fabricate, the nothings into
- - extrasensory realities,
beyond all imagination.
Like a painter,
the poet needs oil & ink,
- to set the eyes
and mental capacity,
- - into a hypnotized state
of suggestive attention.
As a quilter,
the poet weaves
- embroidered tapestries
with spectrum;
- - that only prisms
could master -
- - - with simple imagery.
The poet revives,
the deadened, flat soul
- of sentence,
to have a personified
- - existence among our
world of third dimension.
The poet's life,
isn't just a joy
- but a pain;
to tell the world
- - from their hands
littered with
Literature
For the First Time
I opened my eyes today
Really opened them
It was like seeing the sky
For the first time in my life
Noticing the depth of its blue
Seeing the silver lining in the clouds
They seemed to fit together
Almost like puzzle pieces
I saw how the breeze guided them
On an endless journey where
The destination was unknown
I saw birds soar on its stream
And trees swoon at its caress
I watched it cut patterns in the water
And send dragonflies spiraling the skies
Then the blue ocean overhead grew golden
Gilded in the flaxen color of the sun and
Encrusted with dew drops still in the clouds
I saw the sky for the first time today
And I was f
Literature
Insomnia
Strange sounds on sleepless nights
Silver bells, tolling bright
Sing me something sad and slow
Slip into the undertow
Seeing sights that are not there
Seeing sunlight everywhere
Silent sleeper, not a peep
Surely, I just need some sleep
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Beautieful 