The Star.

The Sun melts in the Ocean blue
And sparks fly in the Sky,
To make it a red-purple hue,
That turns dark by and by.

The last orange dips in the water,
Which is aflame with red,
And it brings the Day to its slaughter,
As it takes Night to bed.

The Moon rises to rape the Star,
Which has wishes to give;
Dark, purple clouds smog up to mar
The Moon. They seem to drive

The Star out of harm’s reach, but, then,
As Night begins to play,
The Star within the Moon’s lighted den,
Cannot, blissfully, stay.

A dog begins to howl and bark;
Crickets cry and bats fly,
Around and around in the dark;
They know—something must die.

The clouds cover the Moon with fog
And the Star shines alone;
The Wind drowns the howling dog
With its deep baritone.

The Moon appears again to shine;
The Star trembles in fright;
The Moon seems to cry: mine, mine, mine!
And all’s quiet in the Night.

Then, suddenly, the Moon turns dark:
A red, maroon, then – black!
The Earth’s grim shadow puts its mark,
And gives the Moon its back.

Lost in power the Moon lies cold.
The Star lives on – to light
The Earth with a glory untold
And defeats the Moon’s night.

These Years.

These years have bought me Wisdom.
Would I trade it to retain Beauty?
These years have brought me Pain
And showed me vanity in Love and Duty –
Would I go through it all again?

These years have taught me lessons.
Would I want to go back to the Past?
These years have shown me (they have known me)
To move on from things that failed to last –
Would they treat me now more kindly?

These years have allowed my heart to bleed.
Would I want to let it heal?
These years have left me dumb
And reduced my capacity to feel –
Would I trade these to stop being numb?

These years, these years, these years, these years.
Could I really not feel and let them slide?
These years have marred me, but not in vain.
Some smiles are gone but all have not died –
Could I not gather Life from all this Pain?

Thoughts In a Small While.

In all the time that has passed,
When I could have foreseen the future
Through the shades of the past,
I have wondered what brings me to this place,
Somewhere in my heart I must have –
I must have seen this face.
The words that have blown away
Have come back to haunt me,
And lost feelings have found a way,
To return and look me in the eye,
When all I had ever wanted,
Was for them to quietly die.
The wind has turned, the wind has turned,
And the past is glaring down at me,
While the future is getting burned.
I don’t listen much, what is the use,
I lie down on my pillow of hope,
I have nothing more to lose.
Look! I am not strong, but clever,
And I have learnt from my mistakes.
Do I regret my past? Never.
So here I lie upon my dreams,
And I know the past will blow away again,
And nothing will be as it seems.