I am the Light,

creation’s full breadth,
a spring breeze,
a blooming flower,
a selfless giver,
full of dreams
and a naive hope.

I am the Dark,

stagnation’s great champion,
a dying star,
a shambling corpse,
a perpetual sleeper,
full of dreams
and a ragged guilt.

i am these Two–
and I am one more.

oh please,
let me shine,
please let me–
it's cold,
i’m drowning,
please remember,
please don’t forget,
please don’t–
please–

oh please,
make it stop,
please stop it–
it’s bright,
i’m burning,
I need peace,
please be quiet,
please leave–
please–

please save me.

i am Tormented.

conflict is a woman
I can’t stay faithful to.
She makes a home in my eyes
wrapping herself in the lies that
lay crumpled on silk sheets.
Truth over harmony is the poem
she hums to me
yet
I still run to sing melodies
in the other beds I’ve made.

The fields of gold—
Looking grave
as past faces
caught up quickly,
smothering any presence
with smoldering reminders.

Alas, the echelons of memories
stood tall, like soldiers
steadfast, unwavering
to the imminent fall.

They remind him of his reflection,
belabored by reality’s labor.
Lines buried in sand,
etched onto his head—
burning coals of souls
that throttle his legs into motion.

He runs, and runs,
coerced to send the sun
his kinetic aspirations,
to deflect and reflect,
to dissolve prophecies beleaguered.

For it is he
who devises the Devil
of his own doing.

If you wanted sympathy,
you get nothing from me.

Months of chaos,
Spiraling down
The rabbit hole.

There's nothing left to find,
Because I've already sold my soul.

I feel so empty,
So don't preach to me.

You're just wasting your time,
I don't wanna believe.

Drop the lies,
And let it go.

The path you followed
Isn't the one I chose.

If you want sympathy, baby,
You get nothing from me.

There is no pity in Berlin,
a place of prickly wounded pride.

A city of angels
who fell like scars of lightning
from gunmetal grey skies.

I watch old silvered rolls of film
and see flying columns of seraphim
as they march on by
row upon row
eyes ablaze
flaming swords drawn
in a parody of paradise.
They descended into hell
and are seated
at the left hand of the Kaiser:
Gott mit uns.

This sullen scene of no regret
stains the present with the dead and past:
It fits the flinty nature
of the blunt Berliner
under the ashen skies of winter.

I trudge across a gravel path
in the bowels of Berlin,
hear the grinding crunch
of brittle bones below,
and gird myself for the grim winter ahead.

Today I met my biggest fear
My younger self,
Her sparkling eyes in despair
Asked me if we have reached there.
I, ashamed of myself didn’t looked into her eyes.
I stared hard at the ground, hoping it would open and make me sink inside.

She didn’t said anything for a moment then cried out loud.
Her cry pierced the air,
Raw and broken as if all her hopes disappeared
“I knew this would happen, I knew we would loose again,
All is my fault, I shouldn’t have dream that in the first place.”
Her voice sent a shiver down my spine, I trembled down to my core,
I looked up at her and noticed how desperately she wanted to restore.
I knew we had progressed, but right now only the outcome mattered,
We had failed once again and it seemed all our dreams got shattered.
She didn’t said a word after that and left quietly.
I was left again alone, lonely.
I stood their for some time
and then went back to study.

for every thing, there is a time
for every song, there is a fitting moment
for every angel, a wee devil lurks
for every spring, its autumn

for every taste, there is a canvas blank
for every brush, there is a stroke unfinished
for every soul, there is a soul to spark
for every universe, a mind undiminished

for every beating heart, there is a dream to dream
for every happy day, there is a week of sorrow
for every wicked game, there is a sumptuous scene
for every yester-day, a million of to-morrows

for every tear you cry, there is a genuine smile
for every doubt you shed, there is a triumph to follow
for every faux pas, there's a saving grace
for every second gone, a million of to-morrows

I stand before the judge
Holding my opposition’s damnation  
So long I’ve held this grudge
But now I hold this discretion

Click
Click
Click
My attorney’s pen; panic

Tick
Tick
Tick
The clock; manic

I need to let it out
The truth that you wanted unsaid
How come I previously defended you?
You’ve assaulted me with those hands

Perhaps, this is not my time
Your secret is safe with me
Not for your wellbeing
For I am too scared to be seen

I’m embarrassed I let it happen
So much I could have prevented
We were only fourteen
A relationship seen as placid

Thirteen months we spent together
I once saw your benevolent side
Until you denied the wrong
Now I’m left with your malicious lies

I step down before the judge
I had held my opposition’s damnation
I can’t present the truth
My discretion isn’t quite yet redemption

Considering hostility
    I feel violent.
Considering wonder
    I am awed.

I heard a French widow
say that there is
someone in each of us
    who loves
and someone in each of us
    who kills.