Friday, March 23, 2007
Man without a face
Wanting to break free.
Freedom not quite known to a free man,
A man without a face ,
To face his ideals and his love,
Ideals that torrents the world,
A world which is incomprehensible,
Incomprehensible by our petty minds,
Minds caught in ecstasy,
Ecstasy which brings power,
Power to embark any task,
Tasks with no purpose,
Purpose overwhelmed by the past,
Past which is consistent
Consistent due to our memories,
Memories which bring colour
Colour which is colourless,
Colourless like our souls ,
Souls which sees the man without a face,
Once this face is sought;
The entire colour once lost is regained,
But yet in our realm of time,
We have been frozen;
Frozen because of the man who treads with a face.
Spoken Path
The dawn is breaking;
I can see light,
Light which is forgotten?
Forgotten memories bring to my thoughts;
Paths never tread.
A hidden path, in the depth of darkness.
It is perception that is hidden
But light is revealed.
It is never forgotten for it is in the shackles of darkness,
When unveiled, bliss will be attained!
Uncontrolled agony of fear, zest and power;
Never withheld!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
whats the point ?????????
????
Life is a dream,
This hope for life;
Far fetched.
Dreams that make live our lives,
We try to conceal our fears,
Blinded by hope,
But it unleashes horror.
Sealed by our greed;
Fear to move on,
Our dreams;
Being just a dream,
Virtuoso ever enclosed.
Our Haven
The setting of winter,
The change of vibrancies;
A mixture of moods,
Representing every facet of frozen hell.
The haven once dwelled by mirth,
Now hovered by morbid fear,
Fear feared by every vein;
This vanity and malice of hell,
Make us tremble.
The jittering bones cloud the skies,
With an unheard spell,
This spell weakens our acumen;
To sustain our weapon of victory.
Triumph is anonymous to the creatures of hell,
For they are wrapped by the perils of an exodus.
Graceful defeat is a part of this path;
A way of life.
Sobriety is lost in this lost world,
Where only cunning, deceitful lies tread,
The way of life;
Hovering all the light,
Wiping away all the cheer and joy,
Leaving a residue of skulls of abhorrence,
With no trace of life.