A leaf slowly falling,
I land softly on the water.
their influence on the surroundings ever amplifying.
Though at first the touch is soft and one-sidedly pronounced,
she begins to fully envelope the leaf and carry me away...
She is constantly moving on,
rough at times,
yet never still:
Never a stalled lifeless moment.
Though many leaves will fall upon her,
many will wash ashore,
unable to keep the pace
she has set for anything that wishes to accompany her.
Down the streambed she flows,
carrying with her the leaf,
uncertain to what end they will meet.
Whether the stream will drop to a fall,
or flow into something much greater,
they will continue to stay with one another,
till the leaf falls apart... Top
Hanging Above a Waterfall
When I approached you,
Your beauty awakened my senses.
Though enticed by your loveliness,
I had to awake,
for I was fast approaching a fall.
If I allowed myself to be tranced,
I would lose you forever.
So I held back...
I struggled against myself to wait,
wait for the time when I was ready,
ready to take the chance of facing you.
Though I remained clueless at that moment
to when that time would come,
I kept my hopes up but my guard down,
so that you could continuously sway me with your presence.
But a problem arose...
As I prepared,
you became increasingly overwhelming.
I couldn't bare the fact that at this rate,
I would never have everything I needed to face you.
I had to face the fact that I would never be fully prepared for you.
The lush beauty and depths that would have drowned my senses.
I respected you but too much,
For I couldn't be that other man who could survive your rocky rivers
and splirt out cunning lines of endulgment all the while.
So I continued to lose you,
yet I never even had you.
But now it is too late,
I could have released my grip,
but you are gone.
There isn't a river anymore,
to either catch my fall softly,
or to unvail the sharp stones beneath.
All there is,
is the dry riverbed,
which I had admired for so long a time. Top
Carried upon cold winds,
Felt upon the faces of those who face her.
these faces turn away.
Afraid of what bitterness the cold may bring.
that they too will be engulfed...
Everything looks in the other direction:
Everything denies her existance,
trying to ignore what they would not try to understand.
For faceing the wind is a venture least taken.
a moment of expression,
comeing from the deepest parts of the soul.
But the cold wind cannot stand still,
waiting for the one who is willing.
She must continue on,
till the day,
the day she meets the face of the one that won't turn away.
The face of one,
that will accept the cold,
and share his warmth with her...
One that will teach her the meaning again...
And when that day comes,
the wind shall turn.
will become light tender breaths,
enveloping all in her newly discovered warmth. Top
One look and I am enthralled to know more,
more about the beauty that lies beneath.
The fragile majestics of the untouchable...
The many warm individual characteristics gathered
in the middle of a vast void,
perfectly in balance...
underneath a shell,
shaped by femininity.
Her's are a perfect fit for the recesses
scattered within the deepest parts of my soul.
Though the voids may be deeply hidden away,
they are easily seen and realized.
by her beautiful,
Taking pleasure from a willow tree,
Pleasure provided in her beauty and shade.
the willow weeps.
For no one will satisfy her neads in return. Top
Among the many blossoms,
full of the enticing,
lush curves that define them.
One stands out in the field,
one that breaks the flow...
a flow of blossoms that continue on and on into the horizon.
She catches the eye and melts the heart,
as a splinter far off in the distance.
Oh would I want to pluck such a blossom and call her my own,
a blossom grown from the stale old soil
into the fresh beauty before me...
though there such sweetness stands.
To smell such a blossom,
to enjoy every delicious scent and character she has to offer.
But to pluck the blossom
is to enjoy her company for only a short while.
So not to pluck the blossom should I,
but to stand next to and accompany her.
To respect the blossom for the hardships she
had to endure to grow into such beauty.
To take care of her till she withers.
Rewarded by the sweet scents...
and soft textures,
such a blossom allows onto me in such duration of time.
No other blossom in that field could ever match
such a totality of comfort in thier lives.
Only that of the vision of beauty before me. Top
A great plain of sands,
I stand alone,
buried beneath it.
Everything that I claim to hold dear to me,
lay on the surface above me...
just beyond reach,
Though blinded by the masses upon me,
unable to see what I claim to hold dear to me,
I know it's there...
I believe it's there...
I see it not with my mind,
but with my heart.
I reach for it...
as frantically as I can.
Yearning to break free of my mortal chains,
to bask in the sun,
sway in the breeze,
to within my own hands...
...cradle the earth that holds me now.
Hoping that at some point,
my wishes will be answered...
by a single movement of earth.
despite my zealous efforts,
nothing has happened.
I still lay beneath those great mounds of sand,
that shackle me to the earth,
only to be taunted by the feeling...
that the wind is blowing ever harder above,
constantly burying me in more and more sand...
furthering me from my desires,
and dimming my hopes.
I try to get out,
trying to reach for what I know in my heart to be there.
Yet I can find nothing...
I can hear the wind above...
Though my heart droops from the pain of the thought,
that my dreams are furthering away,
my mind tells me i'm so close,
can't break through,
so my heart continues to wilt,
as I stand helplessly teased.
So I stand underneath those mounds of earth alone,
with only the sounds of the wind above to accompany me.
Though the wind is a rather depressing companion,
it is all I have,
while I listen to my desires blow away. Top
The rose is most attractive,
but to handle her
requires much patience and gentleness.
Touch her the wrong way,
and be pricked.
Her thorn will embed itself
deep within you,
causing much pain and misery.
Leave the thorn in,
and bleed indefinitely.
Take it out,
and proudly bare the scar of your experience.
Scorning at those who leave their thorns in,
for they demand constant attention,
whilst they bleed to death.
Surround yourself with the warriors,
Upon a raft I float secluded,
in the middle of a vast ocean.
I lay there
in pure bleak darkness.
Gazing up into the night firmament,
exploring each and every ethereal soul.
Each one comforts me in a different way.
Some humor me
or even provoke me.
But To know that I'm alive,
every single emotion needs to be experienced.
To know that Iím real,
every single one of these emotions
needs to be completed by another soul.
none of them can fulfill the totality of emotions that I desire.
None of them
have yet to completely indulge me.
Each one I have touched so far,
has left me hungering for something more.
Suddenly a brisk wind passes over me,
chilling every muscle and bone in my body.
In a cold chill,
I take my eyes away from the speckles of warmth and brilliance.
Shivering, I curl up in a ball so that I may sleep.
I realize that Iím completely and utterly alone.
And it is a terrifying thought.
The moment I stopped giving my attention to those lovely eye sores,
I felt alone.
No matter how much affection I gave to them,
in my frail moments I'd lose that star forever.
Never to be able to find that same exact one again.
Just as I start to wither away,
I feel a slight warmth against my body.
As soon as I open my eyes
I am immersed in a spectrum of colors.
The stars have begun to fade
against a canvas of extravagant but wonderful beauty.
Turning my head to see what has created such a wondrous sight,
I'm greeted by an omniscient brilliant light.
A gleaming heavenly warmth that surpasses any other Iíve ever seen.
Reflecting against the water,
the ripples of the ocean refracting it's vehement greatness in every direction,
and amplifying it's magnificence.
My body is enthralled by this new entity.
I realize I've found that one comforting light Iíve been waiting for.
Bathed in warmth and comfort,
I smile like I've never had before,
For once, Iím completely happy.
I continue to smile till my cheeks grow soar and weary.
Sighing a last breath of bliss,
my body weary from the voyage,
I close my eyes to sleep.
As I lay there in total contentment,
I notice something different about this moment.
When I closed my eyes I could still feel her, see herbrb.
And I shed a tear for her. Top
Steel thin strings upon a jagged hilt tightly wound.
Given grace's touch sirens a sweet sound.
Enticed ignore the blade and play day after day...
and within your own blindness play till your dismay...
For in carefree action and innocence...
will the blade strike you down.
And in your own blood...
Cold brisk winds and chilling crystalline rains,
bringest me most extravagant torturous pains.
Cutting through mortal shield and yet deeper through bone,
Staining my naked soul,
Shrill blood-curdling screams felt within tenebrosity,
winged flight taken beautiful thou hast curiosity.
By chance given thou distant presence I discover,
my wails break to ponder upon this impending visitor.
Opposing the winds amidst the rains thou came,
entranced by thy beauty my cries didst thou tame.
Thou vision of beauty descended softly,
and rose thy lovely wing to shelter me.
How tenderly didst thou falling feathers graze my cheek,
battered loose by raging rain upon thy wing made weak.
Till dawn didst thou protect me from all the elements,
and only a feather didst thou leave a memoir of thy presence. Top