A failed poet

Poets aren't god
but if there is a god
or anything approaching a god
he's a poet
and a failed one at that

-the fall of Hyperion
by Dan Simmons

A dream

A persistent dream
Fading away
But forever carved in stone

A play

A play without a director
Funny yet tragic
Ends tomorrow or the next day

A stranger

There is a stranger
I know very well
Who lives close, yet so very far

Hammering away

A sword smith hammering away
Forging his heart in the raging fires
Of his sea of grief

A waterless well

A waterless well
Dreams of rain
While the world drowns

Nostalgia

Hazy spring day
Memories awaken
Nostalgia fills me

My catharsis

A balm to my festering wounds
A guiding shade in my blinding desert
A strait line in my endless mazes

Soothing psalms soar
Memory fades
And my aches melt away

Faster…faster
My catharsis

A purpose when none is left
My fate my own
And my life in my hand for once

None left but me
For all the others are but fading dots

Faster…faster
My catharsis

My mind focused
On a never ending point
Never reached
Never out of reach

Faster…faster
My catharsis

My soothing psalms
The balm of my wounds
My catharsis

Why do you ask, why?

Why live when you must die
Why love when you must loose
When you must shun and choose

Why live when you must die
Why build when all is dust
And into dust all shall ever be

Why take a chance
When you have all to lose
And nothing to gain

Why seek peace
When all is hate and fire
And death reins supreme

Why do you ask, Why?

Because our day shall come
And on that day gods shall fall

Soaking tiles

Tears stream
Heart breaks
Yet love, flickers still

Soaking tiles
Wrenched guts
But fiercely clinging to hope