Whereto thy follow their hearts desire - Vol. III
Jon-Lee Paul Butler
"Ironic, isn't it? To begin yet another volume filled with poems only to still await upon publishing the volume prior to this. Knowing how there is so much more
already, waiting, and definitely desiring to get it out there. Yes, that's right, this
volume III is being created even before volume II is recognised. Like confirmation
that my awaiting volume is ready, it's as good as it needs to be.
I could, if wanted to, separate some of those poems from volume II and use them
in this volume. Or, these next few poems to start writing could be included in that
volume II.
As to say, 'a turn for a new leaf', I feel the same as to begin anew, a shining new
star has shun that inspiring justice upon me. Pegasus has flapped it's wings once
again and swooped down upon my mind.
Perhaps it is a safety margin, like a past, present and future to have, the past
being volume I, a present to have hold of with volume II and a future to look
forward to with this now in it's making volume III. Just hope, as I wished of,
get volume II in line with volume I on the shelf. Or so be of it!"
CONTENTS.
1. To sail away into a dream.
2. Perfect and alike in every way.
3. Plenty more in the sea.
4. These chains.
5. Saddened dreams.
6. Fearful love.
7. Plans.
8. Words.
9. An exaggeration of a former self.
10. No regrets.
11. Soul searching.
12. A womans' vengeance against a mans world.
13. Cat O' nine lives.
14. Star chasing.
15. The World according to Her.
16. The forbidden fruit.
17. People are like seeds to the wind.
18. Evolution of life.
19. The curse of true love.
20. Clouded judgement.
21. When she ruled my world.
22. Life as we know it.
23. The arrogant butterfly.
24. Might, Mighty, Mightier, Mightiest.
25. Devotion.
26. Friends in high places.
27. Intensity.
28. Still life.
29. Blood of innocence.
30. The Hollow Tree.
31. The light that burns.
32. The life of sober.
33. A hand of choice.
34. To let the heart rule the head.
35. Humanity.
To sail away into a dream.
Patience the mind to silence around,
Delicate hands that create such time.
To focus with concentration without a sound,
Keeping matters steady so not to fall out of line.
The night beckons late to continue on,
Eyes are feeling such a heavy weight.
Visions that start to dance upon,
As moments pass by arousal to reinstate.
Slowly drifting off to sail away into a dream,
Upon this ship just as to make.
Surreal this life as so it seems,
The rushing waves as it take.
Deep waters to be that soft landing,
Harsh winds grabbing the sails.
The leaded cannons for that heavy handed,
Or to fly away within the gales.
A stench of stale stagnated waters,
Dripping like a loud ticking clock.
Dampness and a chill for our quarters,
Whistling winds all through-out till we dock.
Sudden birds come by singing,
A beam of light from the days sun,
Dry lips from that salty water in need for wringing,
Clothes saturated as if to only begun.
Travelled across the open seas,
Must of slept all the way through.
With the reminder of that cold sea breeze,
To awaken with that scent of mildew.
There as real life can be,
The ship I was just sailing on.
Smaller in size than of my dream,
In the sitting room as if nowhere to of gone.
Perfect and alike in every way.
Everyone needs that someone,
As so everyone tends to tell.
Someone to call your own and be among,
For a life to live with and feel well.
Likeminded and who share every step,
Agreeable and mutual to think.
Loneliness is a feeling no one should ever be met,
Or to shy away for a place to sink.
Perfect and alike in every way,
That someone by your side.
Never to run and to always stay,
For every moment to abide.
Even if to not be there,
Deeply in mind in thought.
Like hearing their voice so gentle and fair,
That someone you long to sought.
What if that someone is hard to find,
Or right there in front of your face.
Only they also say how love is blind,
And can always find yourself misplaced.
Plenty more in the sea.
Where the waters are settled is to find it deep,
Dark and cold that to shore is where to wish to seep.
Where to crash and matters for being shallow,
If not to be picked out and a path to escape of narrow.
To drift out for oneself and make that choice,
Which ones to choose as all seem the same even their voice.
Patiences can take its toll,
Allowing for yourself to be the one that is taken hold.
Fish when out of the water can drown,
Their troubles weep in the sun light upon their frown.
There is plenty more in the sea,
All of the same woes and strife whichever one to be.
Grabbed hold to be in their life,
Then to have their chips and begin to strive.
The courage taken that made this happen,
Reveals the stronger one if befallen to an entrapment.
As any hook, line and sinker to catch,
Through all the troubles caused can make it a match.
These chains.
These chains to break,
A freedom to grab hold.
From a life to feel fake,
To be daring and bold.
To run as far as the hills,
Across that further land.
Horizons to sense and thrills,
A mind broad and knowing where to stand.
Whom shall greet such a welcome,
To reach out deeply to thought.
Thoughts that come so seldom,
Yet to think of with every morning sun caught.
To trust this path to be upon,
Promises of this future place.
That to already lived and learn for what is wrong,
Will this start anew be right for such sake.
Saddened dreams.
Dreams, saddened dreams upon the way,
Tearful stars to twinkle when come out to play.
Weaved a path within the night,
Alas, to no prevail from causing a fright.
Directions confused for to seek another,
Finding a cause so not to fail further.
When the life you seek fades from sight,
Then that seeking light you wish to meet is much greater in height.
Beyond the mind can reach,
Bigger dreams are seen more nearer to beseech.
As the moon shines brighter than any of those,
Stars too far to grab hold of and impose.
Reality shines much wider than can see,
Why hidden behind are these saddened dreams.
Fearful love.
Trembling knees upon a whisper of a name,
Heart racing to just see them again.
A love to adore yet why to fear,
To miss with every fallen shed of a tear.
Yearning badly for to be with,
Too scared to feel their kiss.
Torment within for wanting them,
The heart to rule the head if when.
Part of says yes the other a no,
A lonely feeling of lost to seek that soul.
Searching for that one true love,
Only fearful for being too near to touch.
Blessed to find that rightful one,
Cursed too with such emotion among.
Why a fearful love to have,
To come or go is how bad.
Plans.
No matter who or where,
Early and bright.
Thinking ahead to hide from the suns glare,
Everyone has plans in mind to bring alight.
In a hurry to start their day,
Or taking it easy to drag out.
Off to work or somewhere away,
Even at home to not even doubt.
Blank thoughts to hear nothing but silence,
Still to work out something to do.
Being busy of an atmosphere that enlightens,
There is that short moment to consider soon.
From ideas to think of,
To lunch to enjoy.
Someones plans always come to above,
A path to accept to appear not coy.
Words.
Words like engraving on the mind,
Carved into once spoken in time.
Set in stone to understand,
Thought of as soon as whispered of a sound.
Not what to say it is how to say it,
To express our meaning so to already know abit.
Small words that are used everyday,
Like syllables of notes on the airwaves.
Gentle tones that we pick up in the brain,
Where bigger words cause confusion to gain.
Coded emotions that play along,
To the sound of a word that we speak from.
The more to use the more to know,
Practise makes perfect wherever to go.
An exaggeration of a former self.
A moment shared within the past,
Someone of whom a memory shall last.
Recapping over the minds blurred vision,
Every little detail under suspicion.
Investigating every dark corner of the mind,
Dragging it out of every minute and hour of time.
Wondering what someone may think,
For a minute detail that would not even shudder to blink.
An exaggeration of a former self,
Questioned to every moment to tell.
Facts that appear from out of thin air,
Magically to create yet are true somewhere.
Something to detail that jogs to remember,
A nudge of a word to suddenly endeavour.
Ironic to consider that moment this way,
As to make it up as to go along if they may.
It wasn't like that to know for sure,
Just an exaggeration where they wanted more.
No regrets.
An awakening of an open eye,
The mind sore to be of shy.
Sense for something that has been,
Suspicious for anyone who might seen.
A memory lapse for the doings of past,
Hoping to recall quicker than the time shall last.
This painful feeling to have of thought,
Not knowing whose eye to caught.
How to have regrets in the light of day,
When to be bright as to twinkle in the heavens away.
The night that comforts our foolish self,
Yet once out in the open to feel unwell.
To find some reassurance from whom,
Given no regrets for a memory of soon.
Soul searching.
A body empty where to stand,
Senseless mind to feel at hand.
Feet on the ground is where to be,
Yet somewhere out there is a life set free.
Notions tugging at the brain,
Pulling those thoughts for another place to gain.
Wishing upon for somewhere better,
Though the life to be remains in fetter.
As loosely scattered on the ground to find,
A needle somewhere amongst the haystack to grind.
This soul that is to believe in,
Once felt though not of to bring.
Searching within the depths of time,
To of missed an important part for a kind.
Chances are for a second,
That is if not shy from once bitten.
A womans' vengeance against a mans world.
A woman through eyes of a world to endure,
A mans world this woman is for.
To suffer with every endeavour,
Of temptations where promised to never.
The pleasures that were there to be enticed,
Only now pains upon for strife.
Unfair this woman now feels,
A womans' vengeance against a mans world to thrill.
Changed to his purpose caused in life,
An appearance no one wants for now to spite.
Vulgarity is the shameful emotion to have,
Once vainly of a face to admiringly grab.
Something remaining to remember of,
Not for a man to realise what.
Personally unaware for this time to spare,
Distant in relations as the thoughts to care.
A woman to feel punished for her desires,
To consequence for fingers burnt upon fires.
If regrets are not to be flustered,
Then life continues of that entrusted.
Cat O' nine lives.
A life already spared,
One that began its' feline faired.
Past life that it had been,
Of a person suffering.
Given that second chance,
Upon four legs and a tail to dance.
Yet it's cause to be reborn,
Remains to torment those of thorns.
Blinded of sight to it's tragic end,
Now to crawl at night to repent.
Sensing that spirit of just,
To cast such spells for trust.
If to suffer once more,
This cat o' nine lives has to endure.
Making much of strength to have,
Harder to suffer through each life to elapse.
Star chasing.
Dreams weaved inside the mind,
A path to follow for such kind.
Hoping one day to come true,
For a life to live through.
Stars that twinkle for that guiding,
If only to be for finding.
Some more distance by far,
Harder to reach to cause mar.
For the better or for the worse,
Star chasing if not adverse.
Belief to do such good,
If a star to chase that could.
Could that star be too big,
For us to discover that rig.
To bring down as to fallen,
In it's place rightfully hearten.
A life's duty to entail,
To correct where those fail.
Before they become to a point,
To twist and be of taunt.
Their path that were side-tracked,
That others come of to bring back.
The World according to Her.
A window yonder to peer,
Of a world to look out of so near.
People living their soulful ways,
Given the direction by those who play.
Above the mind where eyes do not see,
Is Her of whom that lays the cards for free.
According to how Her mind believes,
Is how below is the eyes to perceive.
It is a World according to Her,
Convinced by the dreams weaved if so to care.
May the path be walked by the choice of thou,
Or be left to others to make do alone.
As a star that shines it's light,
When to come down from a place so bright.
Gentle steps must be towed,
That not out of place where showed.
Or fallen to their own damn fate,
Should been more careful to wish for of late.
The forbidden fruit.
Temptation led to the fruit ripe for picking,
Yet seedless of a path of knowing.
A future that may behold,
Of no past that has gone cold.
To love the forbidden fruit,
Is rotten through and through.
As to love the poisoned rose,
Is a drop of blood from a thorn that shows.
That wish to make that never should,
But a love too strong if ever would.
Deeper within is that answer to find,
For the truth of ones own kind.
A reflection of the life that has lived,
Forgotten yet whether to forgive.
People are like seeds to the wind.
Life to drift along the way,
Something to grab onto that pass by.
The first thing to hold hoping to stay,
To develop further as to so try.
A grasp that can last for long,
At times slip through.
The motion to continue on,
Till to attract something new.
Establishing into as it intended,
The path given to live.
Making to the end with that amended,
People are like seeds to the wind.
Evolution of life.
Dry, barren to the naked eye,
Dust from the volcanic eruptions that went by.
Cracks on the surface hot to the touch,
The air slowly came and cooled it down as much.
The dust settling upon the ground,
Only a whisper of a breeze for a sound.
Still to hear slight explosions of a world,
Gently dying down from boiling anger that held.
The anger turned to an atmosphere,
Of dark clouds, thunder and lightning to hear.
Small pools of water that healed those cracks,
A grey world that turned green to lack.
Plantlife to suddenly sprout,
Vibrant in colour and design all about.
Like the stars in heaven that shine,
Pollens spurting everywhere floating around in time.
A mass gathering trying to find a way,
Holding eachother clinging on to stay.
Taking two three sometimes more,
Weighing down and drifting to the floor.
Regrowing where these pollens fell,
Into something new of wonderful if to tell.
Then the waters came again,
Slowly rising for some plants to be under then.
Adapting to their new surroundings,
A way of life to continue for demanding.
As more and more pollens filled,
Dryland and now water that stilled.
To strange and wonderful creatures,
Small like insects creeping and flying with beautiful features.
The intercourse of life now has changed,
Still meeting another to combine together and rearrange.
Some swam in the deep high seas,
While others crawled on legs or flew into the trees.
As living breathing life began,
All around everything alive in anyway it can.
From the earth that still felt hot under the feet,
To the air that blew and the waters for seas.
A world full of colours and green,
Whites and blacks and blues altogether seen.
Evolution of life has begun,
So did also jealousy among.
A fight for survival as some creatures fought,
This making life change even so more.
As the strongest had more of a chance,
For greater in numbers is how life stands.
The curse of true love.
To find that one true love,
Takes someone very special indeed.
Enlighten the mind to the above,
Open the heart and the whole body to please.
Yet seeking can take its toll,
A lifetime if not all too late.
Daring to take the first moment to feel bold,
Or trust in those emotions where to wait.
There is a curse of true love if ever to find,
One that keeps hold when to part.
Those whom know for such kind,
Old wives tales will truly start.
To keep love within the close circle of kin,
Where elders fall like stars from heaven.
Not to break out or to let anyone in,
That it takes generations to pass till then.
Searching through each living soul,
That given birth of bloodline.
Until there are two who makes hearts whole,
Having found eachother again in time.
Then the curse has faded,
Leaving the beating impulses within.
Relive those moments though tainted,
There the story of true love shall again begin.
Clouded judgement.
Blue skies for clearer days,
Sunshine giving warm rays.
Gentle pace in life,
With only shadows of doubts for strife.
A calm before a storm,
As the clouds come in to form.
Never rains it pours they say,
To look a yonder away.
A cloud not in sight to see,
Just pure white above to be.
Passing by a random silver lining,
To give a glimpse for something crying.
Intervals of wet weather to endure,
Still the white sheet of clouded judgement for sure.
A sky once blue now turned white,
If to freeze over will crack so light.
Shatter into tiny pieces of flakes,
To come snowing down to ground to lay.
If to crack the sky into,
Shards of ice to once again see blue.
Or slowly melt away in time,
Where it do pour for many of kind.
Days that are spent under,
Will it or not by asunder.
When she ruled my world.
A sudden moment for trauma occured,
A twist of fate that had lured.
Comfort needed to overcome,
Where strangers were pleasant among.
To have that fifteen minutes of fame,
Everyone looks up to you for what is to gain.
Knowing me all too well,
Is where it begun to be casted under her spell.
Looking down inside my own personal universe,
Like a God whom words were in verse.
Gazing into an empty mind of space,
As to foretell where the light is great.
Spiralling round her wisdom shun,
The spoon to stir for what has begun.
When she ruled my world,
For a secret that was not to tell.
All it took was a moment for a brew,
To listen and see deeply within for a view.
That heavenly state she had worn out,
Spent too long looking down no doubt.
The only stars that twinkled bright,
Was the reflection of her face in the light.
The twisting tales inside a cup,
She knew from then the life to lift up.
The path to lead from then on,
Will be for belief to guide along.
Life as we know it.
The life we endure to know as true,
Yet deep down beliefs reveal something else too.
Instincts that sense another path,
Only to stray off course is another life to last.
Our upbringing is what becomes set in stone,
The same rocky stone ground we consider home.
A touch of normality if to make any sense,
Feelings in the mind foretell hence.
This life as we know it to think of as real,
Somewhere knowing of another still.
Lost in commotion of the minds that pass,
Like speeding traffic on the lane to go fast.
The promises of that place to reach,
If to accept for such dreams to beseech.
For where is the life that we consider behind,
Set deep in the shadows at the back of time.
A change has happened that alters our faith,
Bewilderness to find our way again.
The arrogant butterfly.
The pace in life to begin slow,
Whithered path by greed.
Munching on anything to go,
Attracted by a turn of a new leaf.
Grumbling along to every bite,
To reach that purpose.
Never to be seen in sight,
Only to leave behind a fuss.
If at all a taste of the good life,
Eyes much bigger than it's belly.
Carrying a load takes over with strife,
Till consumed too much felony.
Hidden of now inside it's tomb,
Filled to every gap.
Slowly turning within it's cocoon,
Something to unwrap.
If all is bright and beautiful,
Life to continue on.
Taken already while a greedy animal,
To not see that flower to be upon.
The arrogant butterfly presumes,
There for it's taking.
The nectar of gods to consume,
Only being of it's making.
Thus this attraction be in it's place,
Opened wide like the light of day.
Drawn towards a curious face,
Though for to fly away.
Might, Mighty, Mightier, Mightiest.
Might is that opportunity to meet,
Know of their acquaintance to see.
As the curtains to open to look out toward,
Plans to make whether to be of cause.
Mighty is that someone whom can judge,
To suffer the same that same old grudge.
Of those with opinions that are set in stone,
Only in glass houses where they may be thrown.
Mightier is the hand that holds that sword,
The one who takes grasp to do what for.
The same hand that holds the pen,
With the power to cast wise words to follow of men.
Mightiest is determination and willpower for sure,
Knowing what to set out to do and lead as a lord.
That something been done and tried over again,
Trusting and convinced of past knowledge from then.
Devotion.
That of whom can take away for what was devoted,
is the one who also gave it to.
Of where deep emotions are being stirred,
can also stir the spoon.
Within their hand they play them for,
and to crush if ever be.
Loyal is how they keep matters interested,
but trust is also the key.
A life dedicated to their fulfillment and joy,
keeping a one track mind.
Plans that slowly evolve through the years,
making sure to turn out kind.
To once discover what is meant true and dear,
is the secret of their devotion.
Sooner to turn back on their promise,
is that power to hold of their emotion.
Friends in high places.
Those dreams we all shun our minds to,
That bright urging idea.
Finding that dream is of where and who,
For someone had enticed so to sheer.
A path that is initially to walk upon,
Side-tracked for such a need.
That the path to be on is of solemn,
To lean off course is indeed more keen.
Surely it must be for in with a penny,
But for whom shall this penny drop.
To emerge from to be out with many,
A benefactor must be dealing at the top.
Dreams do not come by so easily,
Usually to come with a cost.
With friends in high places so freely,
Must be the one to come out with a pound or a lose.
Intensity.
Everyones thoughts that come rushing in to mind,
As the oceans that bring in the high tide.
Gentle whispers upon the plain,
Distant horizons that seem to call out your name.
Laughter heard all around,
As the wind that blows across with a sudden sound.
Telling of a secret is not a selfish stunt,
It is revealed to a state of a higher mount.
Placed before a mountain to climb,
Is this torment that has surfaced for anyones kind.
Trust within the deceitful type,
Mistakes happen yet occur with might.
Intensity is the emotion to feel,
To open up from deep inside to deal.
Never to place that trust in anyone again,
Dishonesty has got the better of from then.
Still Life.
In the still of the night,
The mind dancing under the moon light.
As the stars twinkle in the eye,
Upon this ground where under to lie.
Gazing up into a darkened sheet of space,
Watching as it passes by the way.
Even the living heartbeat is too fast,
To see the moon spiral or the stars pass.
Leaving a feeling for the ground had moved,
And the dancing mind is now smoothed.
As the flowers and birds wait till day,
Motionless till a break makes them sing and sway.
If the ticking time is a beat of the heart,
Then time moves quicker than the planets path.
Yet still the naked eye is too fast to see,
Needing to slow right right down is where to be.
A movement from within still life,
If at all aware for such breath of strife.
Even the light of day that awakens us all,
Fresh and bright eyed as the mind will call.
That which shines and creates the shadows on the ground,
Lighting up the dark while to move without a sound.
Yet so too the day is blinding with sight,
That perhaps even shown the way are to spite.
Some things are just not meant to be seen,
That mindless sense of still life that breathes.
Blood of Innocence.
Innocent blood equally shared,
Easily forgiven for being unaware.
Sinful seen through the eyes of just,
Yet for the life wanted it is a must.
Oh how the story evolves as we go along,
Renown as a saviour only alas from the beginning song.
Tempting of a soul to keep,
Only the weak thoughts from a mind so bleak.
Fate is laid with every step taken,
Unable to test the waters first where the foot is making.
Such wonders and philosophies that entail,
For a life taken so young and so well.
Powers that be of such a thing,
The deed is done and not on a whim.
A happy ending can be foretold,
Loving and caring if the heart is so bold.
Though reality really do bite,
And only of that whom suffered tells right.
Even so a reward or two,
As a deal with the devil to see it through.
The water of life is not of purity to take,
It holds a secret that the then life to make.
Belief is of to prevent such path,
And turn the water sour and back to the past.
As the water is not of eternity,
Blood of Innocence is what sets it free.
The Hollow Tree.
An eerie mist drifts slowly across the plain,
Seen from the window of all in the main.
The mother curiously wanders her stare,
While her husband outside at the gate to repair.
Mending a haunting creak of a sound,
As the gentle wind blows the broken gate about.
With the mild season of a whistling wind,
Causes ghostly presence through the windows bring.
Now child in crib starts to wail,
A night of a spooky sense to tell.
In a blink of an eye,
Seen from the window a shadow to pry.
Almost distracted from her glance,
Cries that took away from that blurry dance.
Startled too the husband upon the ground,
Too fast to see for sure of movement around.
The mist so dense to see a few feet in front,
As a white sheet flapping away so brunt.
All now mended and frightfully turns,
Chasing his own spirit back inside where the fire burns.
Child in arms by the soft rhyme of her voice,
Once again sees the dark shadow move across.
Gasp with fear she steps away from the glass,
As the mist builds deeper to not even see past.
A chill spreads through the whole house,
Making her feet dance as to see a mouse.
Quickly hurrying down the stairs,
The front door wide open still and no husband to dare.
The fire roars excitingly abrupt,
A gentle scream as the flames turn up.
Caught by the glimpse from the corner of the eye,
That same surreal shadow passing by.
Fearing for her own child she closely embraces,
Without a call for her husband she hurries and races.
Out into the solid white mist,
Barely seeing for a face before to kiss.
This night filled with a holy evening,
Where the fruits of the trees and vegetables are ripe and beaming.
Once a garden that attracted anyone from around,
Now a feel of terror as that shadow howls out a loud sound.
Unknown of her husbands fate,
Chilled to the bone she runs once by the mended gate.
Eerie than just a creaky noise in the night,
This freely sense of open minded to fright.
Scarper across the boggy mildew ground,
Not looking back to only a whiff of ash to smell.
Their once lovely family home now gone,
Far in distance and on fire for so long.
Making it down the path that brings out to an open meadow,
The villages sacred tree tall and hollow.
Holding back the tears by the strength from her fright,
She lays her baby crying deep in the trunk for the night.
No choice to make she continues along,
To an old brick house all derelict and wrong.
Hoping to hide from the creature of the night,
Just as the moon appears breaking through so bright.
Glistening up the darkened corners of her hideaway,
A surprising wail where a spider to stay.
So near yet so far that same howl gives out,
Quivering from cold and wet feet to now doubt.
Watching from the shining of the moon,
The Hollow Tree a once crying baby now sounds so smooth.
Within the darkest corner of her hidden lair,
A deep dark growl and piercing eyes to stare.
Nothing more comes from the old brick house,
Even the silver glisten of moon is no longer out.
The mist swiftly departs and disappears from sight,
With all that is left is a giggling baby alone in the trunk of a tree by night.
To then comes by a haggard old witch,
Picking up the baby and away she departs with stick.
Just as the mist slowly vanishes from sight,
Walks into the mist with baby and delight.
The light that burns.
From the dark it become,
The burning light life begun.
Drawn towards such a light,
That gravity in minds sight.
Yet from this glowing warmth,
Such existance conforms.
The fire it emerges from,
Of no solid mass but not for long.
Evolving further into the cold dark space,
Setting hard and closer to embrace.
This light that burns yet alive,
As to prevail to go near or thrive.
Slowly in time all coexists,
Breathing and beating as so wish.
Even the pupil of the eye,
Retracts upon seeing this burning nigh.
The light that burns is where to come,
And so too to end up when done.
In the dark must remain,
Too much light the soul feels pain.
The light that burns oh so bright,
Not a flame that can warm the night.
The life of sober.
The deepest depths of a mind,
Stimulated to be out of control and time.
A mist of conclusion hovers around,
Believing in what can be found.
Not to realise how the mind shines bright,
While intoxicated the dimmer the light.
The darkness at the back of the mind,
Is where to find answers during a drunken sigh.
This sense of being is a part of existance,
Hard to let go and change for an instance.
As out of character a person becomes,
Distant from others and reality shuns.
Torment will take hold,
Temptations that lead the mind cold.
A state of insanity the path ahead,
Only for wanting that wisdom to be said.
The true thoughts to have alone,
The life of sober can it be a comfort zone.
A hand of choice.
This hand of mine that has a mind of its own,
Always wanting to be close to where the lips are sown.
Gently encouraging small puffs every now,
And then to release that sentimental cloud.
Judgement blurred for where to consider,
All but the time that passes to endeavour.
Such joy this stick of tar the hand persists,
A hand of choice the fingers wish to kiss.
Difficult decision to make to depart,
As a devilish temptation that was made from the start.
Even would cut ones own hand off if it helps,
To break free from this tough choice the hand spells.
Not knowing what to do or where to place,
A hand of choice that still hauntingly touches the face.
To let the heart rule the head.
Like a candle that burns in the sun,
Feeling its warmth but not seeing its glow.
Flickering freely till the flame is done,
When burnt down to consider it so.
A sense of presently there,
The emotion to stir like stilled waters.
Heart felt as so wishing to care,
Waived along if to so be thoughtless.
Tears that fall from the petals of flowers,
Pools of water that waited.
As drowned seeds to cower,
Wishing sown of that belated.
Wanting but not getting,
Temptations lure the mind.
To follow the heart is letting,
Ruling the head is a different kind.
Humanity.
Life to understand is hard to find,
For looking in the same place humanity abide.
Seeing the same ole same ole,
Wherever to be however to know.
Yet the fish in the sea so calming and still,
And the birds in the sky that drift and thrill.
Accepting these other states to survive,
Yet to share the same essence is to live or die.
To be white, black, yellow, or pink,
It is the life we all desire that makes us think.
Yearning for the same beyond reach,
Like a pack of wolves that protect each.
If to sense that emotion from another,
That element that divides the other.
What we truly crave for in this life,
Is what drives us selfishly to thrive.
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