Trials faced alone best forge the soul, and make you stronger than the day before.
Into the Fray the Bold and True.
Into the Hells wrought by Angels.
Into the the sound of thunder crashing;
crashing on the Eastern shore.
The Earth is railed at their wake.
Through sound and arms they strike as none.
And have awoken a peace seen aloof;
the World is united against the storm.
For centuries the land has quaked.
Histories have been made upon those dunes;
those dunes that make the Eastern shore.
For on those shores, the black gold prospers.
Guns and Oil have been no stranger to Mother Earth.
Surely she coughs at each puff.
But of that pain
is for another time.
Today the journey continues,
the never ending quest to soak a land
with the red of a nation grim,
and strike fear in those that would follow.
Who is to say,
which aim is true?
Should the giant bow to the snake?
or should the snake make still his woeful fangs
Against an enemy so dear.
One can triumph against many!
That is their call.
Yet time and again,
their cries have adorned our halls
We strike as one, with s
TeachersI met a woman, long ago, her spirit bold, her skin so fair, yet her past, a tale untold.
I saw her through the blackest night, a night that still evokes a seeded fear.
How could I have been such a fool, may the Gods strike me so bold!
She took my heart and stamped it out, rend asunder, and took to flight.
Left me broken, this I know, I still can grasp her scent in wind so foul; it grips my soul.
Truly, I lay upon my back, gazed at stars; I would see the moon burn red; may Love be brought down low, for I lay forsaken here.
I took her by the hand, I comforted her deepest fears and banished them unto the void.
She led me to believe, that I was only One, Bold and spoken for, it was all a lie.
I swore in two tongues, and then a third, I would see the day fall dim, should I wake from this ill dream, may I never be so bold.
Time went on, and I healed my broken heart.
Then as if the Gods heard me, They sent an Angel to renew my Flame, and I found myself, a Man again.
She basked in my words, to
So soon does the page end.
So soon does my ink dry out;
spread so thinly as my soul,
yet the words that I doth writ
gleam as bright as hidden gems.
Sought from this world;
I hid in shame.
I found a power
So great and unimaginable;
A diamond mine, I struck
And thus did these words flow
Verses, psalms, and notes profound;
Within me, birthed a new sound.
At once did I discover;
I took to page and writ these words,
Lashed from bone
and penned in blood;
Great truths did I proclaim.
I called to others;
Writers dim and great alike.
Artists both unknown and famous;
all sought out
To share what I had uncovered
A gift and blessing to all who read.
May they find the strength here
that eluded them all their years.
May Truth exalt our souls,
As we all seek fame
To make us feel, truly accomplished.
I danced my pen across the cello’s strings
I twitched the chords of an angelic harp
I sang a song and angels found it bright
Lifted me up, from this darkne
Should madness grace me here this night,
I’ll sever pen from this eerie dusk light.
And mark the note, so clear, with angel flight,
To hear the song, of divine and ancient might.
I’ll pause my quill and rest my ears
on a chord that sings, sublime, away my fears.
Through all my hopes and dreams, I’ll fade away with joyful tears
At Heavenly choir, that draws me ever near.
I can see Hell; no more, and now unclear...
My path before me, alit with thoughts and wings.
These songs I hear, from darkened hymns and choral beams;
I am ripped apart at the seams,
by tunes and visions that haunt my dreams,
and visit me upon my waking eyes, dear ‘oh me, I’ve won the prize
A great gift, this maddened pen,
that etches psalms across the minds of men.
And tears from them their slumber deep;
turns them into the humble and the meek.
By grace is given, these haunting visions;
at once they plagued me, now they only visit
and dote upon me wise; greets me with gifts and n
On Temple GroundOn Temple Ground
Oh sacred Ground,
thy Earth is pure,
thy song is gold;
as the diamond of the world.
Oh holy site
now marked by stars, all alight,
your presence is graced
by Her divine steps,
Of which she made
of her own accord.
Her resplendent song;
A golden voice
as pure as the swan
that blessed the Eternal Pond.
A majestic Temple
Built on holy rock,
With brick and stone, taken from afar
and carried to this place; delight,
My home will open to all.
I hear the wind
from Her lips.
Her name is pure;
I dare not utter it aloud.
Yet She is known
by all great Muses.
She arrives in Dreams
etched from immortal seed,
Thy shall bask in song and brew.
Merry are those days
That lifted me from my descent,
Her faithful tune,
Carried me from darkest Hell.
Upon her bosom
I rest my crown
She soothes me still
with her divine image.
She sings to me a song;
well played on lute so rare.
Without Her blessing,
I could not prevail.
Without Her guidance,
My step would surely falter.
I thank Her now, with this
There are many sights that I have seen,
Upon the pebbled road,
Upon the simple path,
Yet none can compare
To the sight of my soul,
Empty and Alone.
I use to think
That I was meant to be alone.
Now I am sure of it.
But it no longer bothers me.
I use to cry,
Alone in the dark;
Without a guiding hand,
Rent from Angels light.
I use to cry alot,
Now I am still.
As a stone within a pond,
Immersed in sorrow,
Yet unmoved or unshaken.
What have I become?
I don’t feel like I use to.
My Heart is cold.
I muse about the noble woman,
who may yet rekindle,
A broken, soft Heart.
And here I stand,
After the long road,
Upon the precipice .
A new chapter awaits;
I remember my Father.
I think of my Mother.
This journey has been for them
as much as it is for me.
I remember my Fathers wisdom:
“The road is endless.”
I hear my Mothers words:
“You are not alone.
Angels love thee.”
I wish that I could
feel their grace upon my soul.
I feel sickened
that I c
look at the clouds todaywhen i met you, i stopped writing. i also stopped waking up to a face full of post it notes saying things like its bad luck to see the woman before the driving test, or my house smells like apple cider and bluebottles have eyes, or i've got static in my arms. i stopped feeling sorry and i stopped falling down the stairs. i noticed the stars at night could have a story and you could have taken the ocean and put it in your eyes. i also stopped writing.
when i met you, i stopped trying to be a nice person and just was. when i met you, i discovered post it notes and then i couldn't use them. i realised my house was not just a picture of a house and that your silence is so loud and my loud is so quiet. when i met you, i stopped writing and i cut star shapes into my blanket because i couldn't reach the sky, even with a ladder.
when i met you, i traced the map of your bones and filled my hands with yours because i stopped writing. i also stopped walking backwards because i noticed that i coul
I am not British nor am I English,
I am a member of the planet earth.
My skin is black making it hard to distinguish
That I do not belong to any specific turf.
Although my passport may say otherwise
And there may be boxes I am forced to tick.
My Continental ties are instrumental in their eyes.
Just like you, I am vulnerable to stones and sticks.
My hair may be curly and my nose may be wide
But my extremities are bound to any communal cemetery.
If you would be willing to compare a picture of our insides.
You will see that our differences are purely elementary.
Yet you are conditioned to see me as incompatible
And this misplaced backhand is something I can understand.
Even though your judgments are far from factual.
Despite our fathers demands, I will still openly shake your hand.
I may wear trainers and you may wear shoes.
You might like rock music and I might prefer rap and reggae.
My team may win today and your team may lose.
But we both will eat, sleep and
Broken HeartDo you love?
Do you hate?
Do you stop to appreciate?
The feelings someone has for you?
The things that keep you from being blue?
Have you loved?
Have you lost?
Have you tried no matter what the cost?
Do you love her?
Does she love you?
Will you ever find out if it is true?
Have you loved while taking hate?
Is it she who doesn't appreciate?
Are you lost?
Are you confused?
Is it all leaving your heart bruised?
Is it real?
Is it faking?
Is it my heart that's slowly breaking?
Does it hurt?
Does it kill?
Does it make you never want to heal?
A broken heart is a great deal.
A broken heart may never heal.
Why did Einstein create such equations?
Why is Math full of calculations?
And why does English need so many punctuations?
Why is there a need to study
Math, Physics and Chemistry?
The very thought of it, makes a student's life history!
When the black and white paper finally arrives,
the time-table for examinations,
it causes tension and irritation.
No parties, no excursion.
Only mugging up, slogging and exhaustion.
The definition of an awful week of preparation.
When comes the last day of examination,
it is an occasion for celebration!
But, when the results reach home,
it's time for a brief explanation...
So what, I'm humanSo what if I'm a dyke?
So what if I'm gay?
So what if I'm bi?
So what if I'm pans?
So what if I'm trans?
So what if I'm a tomboy?
So what if I'm flamboyant?
So what if I'm different?
People aren't all alike,
Not everyone is born straight
We don't all get to choose what things we are
It's not the same as being scene,
Gender and orientation aren't choices
It's just a way of life,
who we are
Ridiculed for things we didn't choose
In the end we are people
Not just animals, we are not creatures
I wouldn't call us monsters
Sinners isn't even accurate
Just call us
Your loneliness has spread to your eyes,
It has now become a part of who you are.
You can no longer keep contract of your own lies.
Everyone else but you can see that this has gone too far.
Your expressions and body language have become bionic.
It’s almost like the lights are on but the room has been ransacked.
What is ironic is that you try so hard to subtly avoid the topic.
I choose and use my words carefully because I know how you will react.
There is only so much I can say or do; the rest is solely up to you.
Only you can dispose of the trespasser that lies underneath.
If you only knew the trials you have unintentionally put me through.
Maybe then you will shed your grief and embark onto a new leaf.
I hope you take my sincere concerns on board.
Because time is one thing none of us can afford
To squander and wonder our lives away.
Be true to yourself.
Monologue.s.Curtains draw: it's 4 o' clock and
the stage echoes with the sound of hearts beating
I can hear you breathe
again; your breath seething
beneath my skin. Your
whispers fill the night with alkali-ash
and I am
heavy; heavy and
Your words weigh me,
and crack my sulphur lips
I never asked for this.
There's a movement,
a balance shifting,
and the darkness begins to lift
like a veil.
The Other stirs and
I never answered: you
never let me just kept me
locked up here, lodged somewhere inside
your ribcage, feeding me
on blood and bones,
acidic sticks and stones,
am left fighting for air,
But now it's 4 o'clock and
your electric eyes cry moonshine, and
my heart beeps noisy beats
with your own.
(beat beat - pause)
can you hear it?
The stage opens up, as we step
into the spotlight. Our fingers lock
together - we are the key.
Unpainted RealityMy brain is sick.
It only thinks of twisted things.
Like how we burn our eyes out,
And we rip our wings.
And then we sit in the dark,
Staring blankly at each other.
Our eye-sockets bleeding,
On a wounded brother.
Then we kneel down,
Praying to the sun.
Hoping things get brighter;
But we don't know what we've done!
We take our tongues out,
We scar them with razors.
Spitting every blade
Across other people's faces.
And if you start feeling,
My words are getting dark;
I'm just painting pictures
But you are making them stark!
And now you feel dead;
Surreal in your mind.
So listen to this preacher,
From the land of the blind.
BrokenI cant breathe
I want to but no air comes out
I want to speak but no words come out
Why do I feel... hurt?
I feel betray
I feel like love had forgotten me
Like God only help those who have love
My heart hurts
My heart feels like a thousand needles went through my chest
and now its bleeding slowly for me to die
Why when I try to move my hands to touch the ground I can't
Touch the ground
Just to know its still there
Just to know I am still alive
I feel like a broken doll
Shatter into pieces
Pieces all over the floor
With no one there to put me back together
Will fix me
No one will love me
No one will help me breath
not feel things that is real
not to even to tell me that Im alive