Ultimatum

You say you’re tired;
But I’ll tell you how tired feels:
It feels like those countless times
Your dad picks on you,
Because you’re gay,
And you dread the sound of him entering a room;
So much so that he makes you afraid of men in general –
To be tired of the fear and the feelings of inadequacy.

You say you’re tired;
But I’ll tell you how tired feels:
It feels like falling in love,
When you realise it wasn’t meant to be just once,
Like all those books say,
It happens over and over again,
With people who cut up your heart;
Because they cannot love it whole.
To be tired of explaining who you are,
To those who want to love you entire
But cannot.

You say you’re tired;
But I’ll tell you how tired feels:
It feels like the pain that rips your inside,
When the children you love are taken
By death – and yet you get another –
For the love you gain
It’s happiness you sacrifice.
To be tired then of death itself;
Because you have met him as a guest
Who is unwelcome but demands attention
And a complete tally of records.

You say you’re tired;
But I’ll tell you how tired feels:
It feels like all those futile times,
When you tried to make yourself more than
A caricature
Of trying to prove your quality.
To be tired of prejudice itself;
Because you realise humanity is bitter
And their contentment lies in the ruin of the other.

You say you’re tired.
But that’s a bit of how my tired feels.

In the Arms of Night

Once again I find myself
Alone, in the arms of Night;
Where else could I be,
As the mighty Sun gears up to fight?

He governs the world
And every Law of the Land:
Hope must bend to Him
And Love must understand.

The Moon is the quiet Wife,
The stars are each a far-off Son;
Against the Sire who else can shine?
Before His Light each is made to fade or run.

The Sun burns.
He compels me to bend.
The moon soothes,
Even if She cannot defend.

Light cancels Dark –
Law and Order shine best;
But I am the Dark,
I am that Time of Rest.

Nature loves both equal:
Be it Moth or Butterfly,
It is free to choose Night or Day,
As your Time to Live or Die.

So I have walked in Dark,
I have not feared the Night,
I have loved the quiet Moon
And I have chosen not to fight.

Parent

I am the one who’s supposed to love thee –
And age has been mercilessly cruel –
Its rampage has destroyed both love and hope,
Like careful fire thrown on some spilt fuel.
I was raised looking up at and to you,
In life’s battles you gained an awesome height.
I took your word as the ultimate law,
And I was never one to choose to fight.

Time, unfailingly, is the best teacher,
It raises the weak and topples the high,
It marks the practice against the preacher,
It stand right up and demands to know why.
Blind was supposed to be all love for thee,
Now how do I do, for now I can see.