what good is a bruised body
when u have a withered soul
u can prison a man
but can't chain his thoughts
paralyse his mind and
you will have him forever

tears now dry

tears now dry
i fathom for reason
deep inside
this deceit and treason
ineffable pain
now haunting within
litle to console
a lot to believe in
till the moment
i find an answer
my skin will crawl
with spite and rancour

puppets

what sick puppets are we
dancing to the tunes of
the predetermined
i wish this pen knew
what it was writing
perhaps it already knows
it is no different

swindler of dreams

thoughts astray
with woven words
nothing but deceit
rhyming phrases
now and again
a swindler indeed

behold your guard
a silent start
everything to beseech
stealth if its tool
strikes to the heart
its love indeed

idle thoughts

no thought sits by itself
the soul yearns to fly
on the wings of love
to a land of the uninhibited

relentless

Moors of destiny
Now long deserted
Reasons still fails
Obscure and disconcerted
The Void too dense
The abyss still darker
Weighed and shackled
deeper and deeper
Emaciated, enervated
Bonded in pain
Relentless, I indulge
Yet again

love so cruel

Thy love so cruel
It taketh away
To waters past
And roads astray
Tireless ardor
A fervent bard
Yielding solely
To your heart
One too many
Thou test no more
Open your eyes
To love so pure