It is Not ...

It is not anger that simmers

It is the helplessness that lingers

Hollow and dark, the forgotten faces

Sublime spirits, now ghastly races

Wandering in the wasted spaces

WE BELONG

It is not escape I seek

I am not weak!

But isn’t it folly that we multiply

When without wings you ask me to fly?

I have run and run and come around

Back to the place where lies abound

A howl, a hoot! Where is Truth?

Come down to earth

Let us see what you’re worth.

Yet for all this rhetoric

I am but pathetic

A glance out into the cold

Back into my cocoon I would fold

How shall I be bold

What shall I be told

Who shall free me from this deathly hold

Tired of my trying, weary of my crying

Where am I going? What am I doing?

How do I know, you’re not lying?

What of the tears I see

For years and years - misery

So many things I hear

So many things to fear

No one to save, no one who cares

We labor and languish, in this pointless affair

Why would I want, to wander here

Never to say, we are finally there.

Yet I see another lining

God is not reluctant

It is we who are hesitant

Soaked in the smallness of the world we are living

Branded by the baseness of our thinking

Shall I not call my friend?

Tell him how much I want this to end!

Perhaps we could then stumble along

Knowing at least that we belong

Perchance the ruling spirits then shall come

Join to sing the very same song

The forgotten theme of the ages

Echoing the voices of the sages

Break the cold silences of old

And we arise brilliant and bold!

ODE TO THE LIVING DEAD

THE LIVING DEAD

We in our rawest best

Our craving and crying

Cannot last.

The living are dead

The dead are living

In the end there is only dying.

So drag on bleeding bones

One horror at a time

Swallow the slime

Wade into the dark and drear

If there is a sun

Perhaps it will shine

Or something else sublime.

Till then drag on you living dead

Perhaps the fire will die

When there is nothing left to burn.