Fighting DragonsTo preserve my sanityIn this realm of darkness,I flee into Silence's abysses.But as the rapping soundSlowly dies downThe shades in mind appear.Drawing out of shadowsThe uncertainties take flightAnd become dragons that I know I cannot fight.Their fires burn into my soul,And I lose sight of my goals.The idea of sleep is overpowering.As I shed a selfish tear,A star throws me her spear.Using that glowing arrowI weaken the serpents as they had done to me.
The Self-Exiled HeroFound that he could not escapeHis innumerable fears.Phased out of society,Living, but a lonely life.Each sunrise: a sunset,For another day lost.To wander in the darknessWith no star of hopeTo guide him throughAn eternal punishmentThat was self inflicted.
UnchangedThe golden orb that hangs in the horizon,Reaches out beyond our grasp.Time hangs slowly over its head,Because it knows no such thing as change.Peaceful and camly the sun rises for me today.
UnhappinessPursued pride,Broken promises,Distorted vision,Crushed dream--Weakened.Empty thoughts assembled,Forced through in hollow voice.Earth-streaked face--unrevealed to light.Small window,only grey skies.Hope of tomorrow--Darken and singed beneatha coat of misery.
Painter's brush,Painter's brush,Poet's pen,and Potter's wheel:By themselves theyAre but mute--yetAll wish to speakIn their own way.Devotion of the imaginationCan lead to a legacy for the future...Only if one is silent canTheir voices omit sound and trulyUnderstand their purpose.They may seem to be simple tools,But used correctly they attach to one's soul,And will help one mold an imageMuch truer than the world itself.
Unknown PatternsDream's unknown abyssesAre constrained within the mind.Unfurled on intricate wings,Soaring high into the bleak darkness,Seems too complex to encounter.Recognizing patterns in oneselfCauses a metamorphosis of the soul.Breaking through barriers, into the light,Seeing the kaleidoscopic beauty of the world.
UnmarkedNo sound penetrates that silent hill,Nor has a soul trod the blades of grass.There's no white church with cemetery,Nor tombstone with written epithet,An unmarked grave of solitudeUpon that silent and lonely hillWhere few travelers have pass by.Alone and forgotten.
FearThe fear that assaults my mind,And the tension that surroundsThe edge of darkness,Are but dim memoriesLodged into the endless night.The light that barely glimmers,Fades away. And the silent, secret, pastReturns to my mind, my soul,The pains I tried to shove away.
Fate of the MindThe dream lives in everlasting desire of the dawnKnowing the fate of the mind when it awakes.The countless illusions trick and tease the memoryBending reality and truth to fit their needs.