Life tells me to run now, run fast:

Life tells me to run now, run fast:
Make each moment count, each smile last!
The night haunts me, the house cries
The shadows gnaw and all light dies.

A sliver escapes and flashes like a star
But that sliver is small and it’s so far.
I stand among roses and thorns
And even use my heart’s evil horns.

I stretch my hand right out, I ache
To acquire it before these horns break
The heart already bleeds and the dark closes
While an invisible worm rapes my roses.

A black, fathomful river twists my way
Rolling, eating each hope of fading day

Sweat pores down my temples, I stretch
My hand to that sliver of light…
Nausea builds, breath stops, I wretch
And my body becomes a miserable sight.

I hear the river; the horns break;
I fall into my roses; the thorns cut
Into my flesh and I cry, “For my sake,
God, for my sake!” But

All I hear in response is the closing river;
He becomes the taker I become the giver;
I stand, wounded, and gaze at that star;
Can hear the water rushing, not very far,

And wait for it carry me to a different land,
Or for that star to fall,
Into my outstretched hand.

Hope.

The beclouded moon, humming a mournful tune,
In a panel of grey,
Crisp leaves abed, on a ground that’s dead,
Pave a solitary way.

A harp that’s silent, in a world that is violent,
Speaks of life today;
A listless expression, on a face in depression,
A humourless sway.

Beauteous Nature barred, from lives that are charred,
Of their very substances;
People do seek compassion, in the guise of passion,
Betraying all nuances.

They welcome greed and nothing’s left to feed,
Their hungering souls;
Rising out of wombs, they are ghosts from tombs,
Just wandering fools.

Trying to find peace, in this worldly alcove,
Is not an easy task;
Trying to evade all, as hearts start to fade,
Behind the darkest mask.

Entrapped within lures, that have no known cures,
That have no escape;
You hope to find a heart that won’t ever depart,
Leaving your body agape.

9th June.