Morning Just

Good Morning my love, have a nice day,
If cold stay warm in bed peaceful lay,
If sweaty go out and have some merry play,
If sad see the sun and devour the field of sunflower hay,
If sorrowed see the moon and pour out full as lovers may,
But if nothing else at least keep this seed untempered in heart,
That I miss you every moment, right from the day's start.

Reusting

The surge through my veins,
Entrails enthrall free,
No left of even feign,
Such is wait for seeing thee.

Gathering strength lost of control,
Cuts of thousands shards left grown,
Quenched to merriment greater in droll,
Sanity refused to requite and thrown.

Forced a tip and pierced pryless,
Into me own, isth emptied this room,
Strong felt and stronger by bless,
Power from nothing, and all and doom.

Conflict so welcomed, created from earth,
For it is I, who gave it its birth,
To make happy, a word of relax and broke,
Brittle being a bit heavy, fine too little to choke,
Resting in peace, resting in wait,
Rusting in milieu, rusting in wait,
Impending will seem gloom, wait there's much more,
Unearth the joyful start, does end accompany bloom.

Pie

I read too much and write too less,
Be glad, I fret, for you did do heaven bless,
Words come hard, fly faster some days,
Maybe they've left, or lost in some ways.

Unbeckoned tears, unbeknownst angst,
Paving way for more, rotting above my langst,
Left now to cringe, in terror of pending light,
Darkness embraced, isth only nectar to sight.

Madness forgone, too sane for the soul,
Worse needed to capture, worse to win the ghoul,
Knelt in meditate, door to insanity close,
Time to bury now, with time must I rose.

Feared by forevers, the silent dark shrouds,
When path to one of dual, unveiling stark dark clouds,
Quick pass the light, quicker lie to rest,
Next as is always, the day the very best.

In Merry

What to say, what to do?
What to feel, being old or new?
Think not far, trash the tense,
Life's stink ignore, ignite the incense,
Seek to fly, take the world,
Leave the zone, and enjoy the world.

Unattained

Who decides what's right or wrong?
Who decides who's weak or strong?
Who decides which's short or long?
Who decides when's poetry or song?

Is it God, who sees all?
Or is it nature, suffering our fall?
Or is it us, vain in kingly call?
Or is it even bigger, and we are too small?

Why the worry, why the ask?
Why deviate, when drowned in task?
Why look above, where is hope to bask?
Why not close sight, for who will shed mask?

If we find, will we know?
Whence we came, whence the snow?
So many questions, so much compass flow,
At last the questions end, or is it just a show?

Forced Folly

This draws a parallel the mighty pen and sword. Presented in a different style.

Here lie some words,
Banal maybe like swords,
Or have they acumen some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Having no reason like swords,
Or are they needed some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Keeping you hostage like swords,
Or do they free you some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Opening hurts like swords,
Or can they close wounds some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Unsure just like swords,
Or have they verity some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Fighting the worlds like swords,
Or can they join worlds some?
For words are more to come..

Return to Abnormal Glory

Time to be prodigal again, time for the happy spree,
Shackling ever-looming misery, time to give again glee.

Lost would not even be near,
To describe what hence would be to fear,
Of the loss of aim and forgotten to be,
Which almost merged with destiny.

Lucky to escape, sorry to be,
What was unholy, what was not me,
The drops built up, of empty and laze,
Until the sands emptied, and got good the vacuum maze.

Came all flooding back, oh sorry! Not so Soon!
But nevertheless. the loss of zero, is as ever was lovely a boon.

Great things are many, yet greatest is the grave,
That once you sink in valley, fate cannot any but save,
The catch being the past, how bleakly it could hide,
The bleaker the better, for the faster from valley can ride,
Up towards the sun, up up and away,
Discarding all the placent, time to regain the way.

The days gone have returned, the time gone has come,
There came to be hollow many, now there won't be less even some,
Abnormalcy has returned, oh how merry is that to we?
Just the time for my glory, the time you cry for me.