Earthly Troubles

In these customary regimen,

Along these sordid specimen.

We long for just a tiny bit of liberty,

That may yet cost us dearly

In these lonely halls,

Along, in our solitary strolls.

We dream of the wind our hair,

That which our bronchi wouldn’t despair

In those scorching moments

Along those stony embankment.

We wish for those pearly drops of rain,

That, has not turned to acid to cause pain

In these grand moments,

Among those lofty monuments.

We look, long and hard ahead,

That, bequeath my children shall, this planet dead.

A Country’ Debt

Trudging down, his humility his crown
Patriotism was not a word, lightly thrown around.
For each man, must earn his place,
Among these brothers whose history you could trace.
To hallowed halls of elegance and grace,
Filled with valour, against every enemy they faced.

These pictures, lining these hallowed halls,
Each had a story, that could fill a wall.
Each had a family and souls they loved,
Yet to heed the greater good they bowed.
Served their mother will all their will,
And to protect her and her children, used all their skill.
Till their last breath they fought along.
Side by side, so that their country could live long.

Now, home they brought her warrior dead,
The one, who for country had bled.
Lying cold under death’s veil,
As his mother begged god to right the scale
To take her but nor her precious little bear.

Now home they brought her warrior dead.
His body heavy with lead.
Home they brought those unseeing eyes,
Which ones held promises and goodbyes.
She had to go on without those hands,
That loved her, even through all her demands.
Oh what would she tell the little souls
Who shared his smile and probably his goals.

Terrified she was as he grew,
Unknowing if he would stroll along the same avenue,
Praying, he would stroll along that path,
Defending a country, that had shown her only wrath,
For all those who end up on those hallowed walls,,
Only end up as a footnote in history’s scrolls.
She wished he wouldn’t wander down that path,
Because, if anything, she couldn’t bear the aftermath.
For once, home they brought her warrior dead,
And with him, she had paid this country’s debt.

The Price of Victory

Victorious he stood
His sword dripping his foe’s blood,
Left was no one,
Vanquished through all of the war.
Gone was every home and every son.

Empty halls and silence’s cries,
Were all that was left, for him to rule by.
And with his victory now complete,
He looked up and asked:

What good came of me fighting this war,
If only for you to take everyone away?
What value of the valour I spend, to protect?
If everyone you had decided to forsake?
What was life’s worth? O Sacred river,
That you swallowed all my near and dear.
Oh, of what use is my victory,
If all I have left is heartbroken misery,
And a my love to wrap my arms around,
But rather only death’s endless waiting charms.

A Demon’s Strength

Looking down from those snowcapped peaks,
Treading along those forgotten blue streaks,
Standing in freezing water, like stoic greeks,
Bearing all the freezing wind, for what my heart seeks.

Those choppy currents with their sweeping force,
Battling along to change my deadly course,
In the mast breaking storm, right at its source,
So that face you when I shall, show no remorse.

These frightening forests,
Full of dark deep ghost.

Those frightening plummets,
From atop these glacial summits.

Those whistling gusts,
cutting hard into earth’s crust.

Only serve to console me,
That I shall soon be close to thee.

Thee for whom

Ever demon shall I face,
Every summit I shall chase,
Every abyss I shall dive,
and every shadow I shall pry.

For she,

Turns my ghosts scared
And every summit, with ease fade.
Helps me take the winds blade,
and keeps guiding me home safe

Miscalculations of Love and War

An empty court, A royal seat.
A Kingly crown, A queens’ feast
A banquet for the victory won
A vigil for the departed son.

A kingdom won, Subjects lost,
A war fought, deadly its cost.
A clink of gold, the clang of swords.
A headstone and a table with different words.

History in all its wisdom,
Created a deadly system.
Kill or be killed was the natural law
For the planet after the thaw.

To what end, would this war lead
Leaving widows and heartache in its stead.
For what do we stand up and fight,
every moment from whence we see light.

The love we have remembers us,
The one’s whose eyes we close, hasn’t a fuss,
Every victory, every crown, every ego ever won,
Empty handed into the ground was how the emperor had gone.
Left behind were the people he loved,
Who remembered and wept for their beloved.

Tales of bridges burnt

Come a thousand deaths
Or a million jests
A reaper’s scythe
Or death’s own blight

Till the bright day lasts
Or in night’s deadly cast
To the tip of the clouds
Or the depths of ocean’s downs

In a volcanoes fiery breath
Or the Arctic’s chilly breath
In a zone where the sun doesn’t set
Or the home where lifes’ darkest

In sickness and in death
In joy and in eternal wealth
In hope and disdainly despair
Within you being the air
And laying my heart out to bare

Wishing my heart again you’d steal,
Hoping all my apologies endear to you
Helping all those old wounds to heal
So that we can get back the love we knew

FLIP SIDE

I stroll along this cobbled way,

Surrounded by lush trees and warm hay.
Come here I have, my debts to pay
To wise old men, with hair so grey
So that I may begin my foray
And escape this gloom without delay,
Where, so long has been my stay,
Before, myself, I betray.

I shall now have to belong,
To forces deep, dark and down,
So that I become ever so strong.
To protect my love I shall drown,
In every sin, whistling a merry song,
So that she may live happily in town.

While people might say I am wrong,
I wouldn’t care, even if you call me a clown,
So long as it is for her, my heart shall long,
The seeds of power I shall have sown.

Destined I might be to roam the land,
In this foolhardy quest so grand,
Yet I refuse to give up, and stand,
For my love shall perish only when I’m turned to sand,
All I care for is her merry band
For that my power I shall expand,
Doing whatever is in demand
Till all that remains of me is just a strand.