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Only the Moon RemembersThe mists gleam with an iridescent blue.
But they pull away from me as I walk
along cobblestone paths, footsteps oppressed.
The forest takes on a spectral facade.
A sound from within the foliage,
interrupts my silent, cold amble.
But goes ignored, like the breath of a sleeper.
Resuming my stroll through the moonlit woods,
I find myself gazing up at the sky,
as I contemplate epochs long past.
Unheard, a call from the grave, echoes behind.
A grey cloaked figure, waiting in the haze,
with eyes of burning coal, that look through me.
Open to an age, submersed in forever night.
Face to the StormI'd have to look up to see the bottom.
How have I fallen so far, yet have so far to go?
This will end here, my heart holds no repent.
Ebony clouds on the horizon stare back at a sickly smile.
I am the wind that has no master.
Your violent lights shake the very air around me.
Lightning impacts the earth beneath my feet.
But still I stand, spear at hand.
God of the Tempest,
I will never fall to your gales and rain.
I will never be your slave.
You and I are One and the same,
a Positive and Negative charge on the same particle.
Even if you crush the world beneath your Kingdom,
You can never break my spirit,
and you can never take my soul.
Into the Storm, my sight remains.
It's just you and me.
Come what may.
The Spirit in the MistThe mists gleam with the ambient light of the moon and stars.
But they pull away from me as I walk down these cobblestone paths.
The surrounding forest takes on a spectral appearance in the haze.
A sound from within foliage interrupts my amble,
most likely a small rodent or cat.
Resuming my stroll through woods,
I find myself whistling to a tone by Iron Maiden.
Taking the time to reflect upon myself, as the sky draws my gaze.
A faint whisper escapes into the cool night air.
I turn around, but no one's there.
There's no such thing as ghosts.
Another whisper cuts through the air, sending chills down my spine.
I held my breath at what I saw when I turned around.
A silhouette, twisted and rippled by the fog, stood less than fifteen feet behind me.
One tear... dearly spent. (Act-I)
I see their faces, they, the unloved ones, dry eyes, no smiles, just a stark and desperate gaze, bereaved of care, hope, love.
Each little face gazing bleakly on through the fractured glass of a picture frame, but not at me...
I lay it down, gently. For I'll find no comfort in it, only remnant shards of a forgotten memory, one soon to pass with me long into the halls of eternity.
This the equal sum of all my years. One just memory, fare earned, bought at a fair price, one of ill deeds and a blackened soul.
I feel pain, for myself, for this world, for the last time. Also fear, so real to me now, that he, this dark loathsome one, would leave me behind.
Unwanted as unworthy, to remain here, a fool in purgatory.
The cold now grips me as if embraced by it, just as a mother would an inconsolable child.
I look into the deepest dark, and ask him. "What is Hell like?" He took no notice, and ask me for the time.
But his question went unanswered, for the
PetrichorI walk without an errand for the mind.
I must be homeless.
Neighboring enclaves separate our spaces,
belie their builders’ mirthless exhaustion.
Not even necessity can be blamed
for these mud-struck, brittle gourds,
these quick nests of vasculous organs
pulsing with their peculiar tyrannies,
briefly scuttling from their hovels
like sun refugees
darting into gleaming storefronts
waffled in concrete misery
all to forestall the end of their souls.
Where can we go when we only want to breathe?
Sitting in a park bench,
trillion-visioned, crowned with galaxies,
I can rest my weary invention.
I sense the weight of an unseen player,
a secret stratagem
as she moves her piece into the glade.
I’m set in place, yet unopposed.
Uncombined with lovers, children,
the slow parade of trees and heat,
I lay beside these stalwarts,
at once, still and hurtling
throughout the travesty of time.
I assemble a cumulus intelligence
near the playground,
threatening Summer with three days
EnchantedA golden apple tang
Heralds summer's brightest fire
But I prefer to amble in
In the darkest corners
There are no haunted whispers
And only caramel shadows
Transfer daylight's memories
For unto me the stars
Snapping leaves leading moonlight
Are not my coldest lonely hour
But a renewal of soul
Desperate for YouDay by day
Block by block
Tree by tree
Tear by tear
Day by day
Trials and temptation at my door
As the grass grows in the world
My soul being put to the test
Day by day
Every hour and every second
Realizes that I am desperate for the Lord
For the Lord to hold me from falling
Lord, I'm desperate for You
My heart tears and wears from a lack of Your wisdom
I thirst and hunger for You
Lord, You hear my cries and You know that I am desperate for more of You
Lord, You are the only who fills my lungs with air
Lord, You are the only that speaks words into my mouth
Lord, You are the only one that makes my heart beat louder than drums
I'm desperate for more of You; Lord, I'm desperate for You
Teach me Lord to worship You with all that I am on my knees
To depend on You and have Your way in every part of my life
Lord, I am desperate for more of Your love
Lord, I am desperate for more of You in my life
You are the only one that will last forever
You are the only one that will love forever
You are t
Damaris: Foreign GodWhat is this message that you bring,
what is this "good news" that you preach?
Who is this strange God from afar -
and what should it matter to me?
We are Greeks - we have our gods,
more gods than you.
What's a foreign god to me?
Your story's nice -
but what's it to me?
But you say
was always there,
even when I did not see Him.
has always cared
for all the world
even though we did not know it -
for this God
is the creator
and all mankind is his -
is the sustainer,
who provides for all that is.
This is no foreign God
but the one true God of all -
and that's why it matters to me.
is the one who made me.
is the one who knew me
before I even knew myself.
cares not only for one people -
for all the peoples on earth are His.
In Him we live,
in Him we move,
in Him we have our being -
is the true God
hauras (fragments)English version below
kastepisara kielon luomessa
peitteesi lehden suojassa
heräsit unestamme aamuun
in a dream,
a dewdrop on a petal
in the shadow of your leaves
you awoke from our dream
a new morning
your tears and i to mist;
yesterday to oblivion.
Soul of fire;
Yet always the same.
Shall I write to thee
On this hot summer day,
While I wait for the paint to dry?
Who so many fear and loathe
To the very last day that they live.
Who so effortlessly stole my heart
Before I knew I had one to give.
Parent of monsters;
A term so subjective,
As you and I know
So very well.
Shall you smile again
In the face of adversity,
And every wound and weakness belie?
As you do,
By telling naught but truth.
As you must,
To frail sensitivities soothe.
You are not,
Though you'll pretend to it
You can be,
Upon no terms but your own,
Free and untameable spirit;
You belong to none
Yet, for better or worse,
To any and everyone else.
PurposeFuturistic elements of produce and will
Define the rationality of wisdom and skill
Greatness transforms out of the might in understanding
Conducting with love, truth and commanding
Time dictates the depth of exposure
And ruptures the walls of insightful enclosure
Within is the key to open your heart
Uniting each piece in equal part
Messages are received in moments of glory
Bringing treasures and gifts embodied in story
Yesterday's thoughts hinder space
Wisdom comes through in faithful grace
"Knowing that it is not who you are
Sheds the wound revealing a scar
You are a star
With unlimited potential to raise the bar"
Harmony brought through balance of kin
Sharing in fears the healing begins
Concentration a strength to shift roads
Fighting for rights and releasing loads
Allowing for acceptance from others
Our friends our fathers, our beloved mothers
Will fill cups and fire homes
Reaching over and under and arriving at thrones
Destiny is in the making of men
Playing a melody that in
OuroborosThe Cycle begins at the rise of sun,
ending during the descent of the moon.
The dragon that consumes its barbed tail,
the sands of time, and wheel forever turning.
Unconscious is the flow, ascension.
Mindless is the resistance to the wheel.
But in vain, your useless endeavor ends.
It is the sand that slips through your fingers.
Nothing lies behind, but these pale memories.
What exactly is the meaning of this?
You have made life a thief and murderer.
You let the weak be denied and fall behind.
A Question buried in the cold sands
and a thousand Answers we left below.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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