Nothing
Nothing inside of the locket he gave.
Dusk
In hour of twilight, the tryst of day and night,
Tearstained
A solitary tear bled from the window of her soul;
Ignorance of Angel
a time there was, when Angel cared,
As I Cry
The hot tears sting my eyes and face
The Lost Key
Do you remember when we were happy?
Storm
In lair of time, held captive tight,
Azrael Led Two
The echoes fade, but never die,
More Poetry...
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Nothing to show for all of their years.
Nothing inside it, just emptiness save.
Nothing to hide her eyes full of tears.
Nothing but pain to show for the lies.
Nothing for time did them enthrall.
Nothing but pain to show for the cries.
Nothing they had, no nothing at all.
Nothing is left of the time which they've lost.
Nothing to hope for, since dead is the seed.
Nothing, just tears, to pay for the cost.
Nothing to rescue in hour of need.
Nothing inside of the locket she wore.
Nothing inside of her heart anymore.
9/3/97 1:52 a.m.
ŠJAL 1997
This piece will is my first to be published...
Look for it in Rhymes of Greatness
The Shadow and the Light briefly do unite:
When eve's dew blanket's the ground,
When silent echoes are the only sound,
The rhyme of the ages, time does write.
With great accolade they meet in Light's glade,
And though once afraid of the time when she'd fade,
The Light, she fears no more
The weakness as she had before
For the Shadow truly was her aide.
The echoes ignite, the glow of the night,
And for Shadow and Light, they play songs e'er bright
Yet with Shadow's strength they dim,
And Light does flicker with fate's whim,
But they still dance, they dance in spite.
And they dance the dance of each moment's chance;
Though song's end does advance, innocence they romance;
So, denied the gift of precious time,
Shadow and Light both write the rhyme,
In hoping fate to entrance.
In her gown of lace, Light begins to part the place;
Yet, her hand with subtle grace she extends to touch his face.
And the Shadow gently pulls her near,
As he wipes away her parting tear;
For an eternal moment they embrace.
Rainbows of twilight are then met with the night
And so ends the song, finite, of Shadow and Light,
But there is hope in their parting,
For with the dawn the again they'll sing,
Nevermore to be contrite.
"...For the sun will rise, and, with the blinds drawn, the light will shine, gleam, stream in to let me see, to let me view, to let me know the wonder of the dawn."
8/18/97 6:28 p.m.
ŠJAL 1997
A pain from inside caused her to cry.
Tearstained pages filled the void, they filled the growing hole,
In her frail heart now destined to die.
Frustration tries to choke her, making her suffocate,
And she tries desperately to explain,
But she cannot seem to think, nor can she concentrate;
So overwhelming is the pain.
Though she knows inside the truth, and that a One does care,
Too often she is alone and lost,
Left alone with the cruel weight, the massive load to bear,
Left alone to pay the brutal cost...
And still each page of the book bears the pain-numbing scars
Of those hopeless tears that stung her eyes
As they dropped to the pages like fading falling stars,
Indelible screams of silent cries.
And yet when the book is closed, she replaces her mask,
And smiles her superficial smile,
Though inside, behind the wall, she does of herself ask,
If the endless act is worth the while.
8/18/97 3:57 am
ŠJAL 1997
when out of love, the Soul she spared,
when the Soul to love her dared,
when they time had blissf'ly shared.
on Angel the Soul did once depend:
a hand the Angel did once extend,
for she once had a hand to lend,
and to Soul's need she would attend.
once Soul to Angel was so dear,
she loved yet did not the cry hear,
nor did she see Soul's painful tear,
both drawn forth by unknown leer.
so caught in hopes was dear Angel,
she knew not words could damn to hell,
and to the lost, she did Soul sell
and for the loss did toll the bell.
she knew not of Soul's fatal pain,
nor did she of the scarlet rain,
and so those words, so profane,
had in ignorance innocence slain.
and so the Soul in vain had cried,
and with no one there to guide,
and with nowhere left to hide,
the Soul fell victim of foolish pride.
9:18 p.m. 8/11/97
ŠJAL 1997
Leaving wet trails of saltiness as evidence of their presence;
The thoughts stream through my head
As I cry.
The tears run down my face;
I don't know why
She bores a hole straight through my heart
As she crushes my soul and all my hope left inside;
I learn that words can kill
As I die
The tears run down my face;
Tell me why.
I plead for mercy, for her to hear,
But in her indestructible armor of ignorance,
She is safe; I am not, though to be
I do try,
The tears run down my face,
Products of her lie.
Her words pierce me like a spear
Drawing not blood but water; I grow weak with the pain.
Of her weapon she knows not the strength
As she lies.
The tears run down my face;
Me she crucifies.
I grow numb: I feel no longer.
I am dead inside: I'm but a broken, shattered shell.
The pain is gone though the wound remains;
I still cry.
The tears run down my face;
I don't know why.
3/22/97 edited and added to 8/6/97
ŠJAL 1997
When the world was ours to hold?
Do you remember when we were laughing,
And when life was ours to mold?
Have you forgotten our childhood dreams?
Have you lost the hopes we cherished so?
Or did you just misplace the key
To the treasures of long ago?
Do you remember those times we shared,
When we said we'd change history?
Don't you recall how determined we were
To change the world, you and me?
You tell me you don't remember that,
But I know you just won't recall...
I see inside you're still like me;
You've buried those dreams, yet I see them all.
Why do you hide them, our youthful hopes,
When it brings you so much pain?
Your laughing heart, your smiling soul,
You are killing both in vain.
Memories are all we've left,
Please don't kill them too;
I hold tight those hopes, those dreams,
And I know that you want to...
We can still do it, we can change the world;
Hold my hand and I'll show you...
But first you must in me trust
Then we'll share the world we once knew.
8/4/97 3:22 p.m.
ŠJAL 1997
The thought of poet becomes trite.
And though the song is for rhyme's sake,
Each raindrop's ripple is of the lake,
And the world is not the same.
A One is born unto the earth
To live a life of pain and mirth,
Yet when rhyme seems the only friend
The life, the strife, the lies may end
For the world is not the same.
Angel of ages in light sublime,
Only by chance does halt the crime,
And in moment of darkest hour,
What once was lost begins to flower,
And the world is not the same.
And while the One fights time again,
Lost in time does another spin.
A tangled chain, yet broken link,
The Soul does fall in rhyme to sink,
And the world won't be the same.
In terror's depths of darkened strife
Both seek to flee saturnine life.
Yet in the other does each catch sight:
The spirits not lost, but both contrite,
Know the world is not the same.
Had that moment not come in life,
Had the One held tight the knife,
Had all been gone, had all been lost,
Had the two lives never crossed,
Could the world e'er be the same?
7/22/97 11:48 p.m.
ŠJAL 1997
And still it sounds, the broken cry
Of the crime once committed
And the harm that it did;
'Twas faith the goddess crucified...
As the age-old fable did foretell,
The broken trust weeps, caught in hell,
And it cannot be mended,
The pain not soon ended,
Now one with rhyme in time to dwell...
The goddess mocked unknowingly;
The knife she held she did not see...
The thought of angel's pain,
The sight of scarlet rain,
Both of unseen fatality.
The hands outstretched in desperate prayer,
The voice now squelched by thinning air,
Do they know the theme,
Do they hold in esteem
The One, the relief of Soul's nightmare?
And two were victim of the crime:
The queen of ignorance sublime
Did shatter fragile trust,
Cause innocence to rust,
And wound the two now caught by rhyme.
7/20/97 11:47 p.m.
ŠJAL 1997
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