Soryuju

And so I linger. On the precipice of the moment, I stare at the sky, its billowing grays and enveloping shadows blanketing the world. Well, at the very least my world. I can feel the security of the weather granting to me an eerie serenity seldom attained in the day-to-day mantras meant to keep my mind within its reins. This tranquility is something I cherish and savor until the final moment when it must pass; and as a human, it must always pass, and always so much sooner than I would readily let it go. But today, I have been blessed with a perpetual stillness within which all the world must surely pause. The world seems to hold its breath

And so I find within my dreams, There is a single common theme. It haunts me so, This dreaded foe, It rips and tears me at the seams. This enemy I so despise, Has yet to fall, despite my tries; With each new year, Embodied fears All take the shape of em'rald eyes. Their jaded glow does not relent; Their only goal is my torment. My seething heart Is torn apart; And so my dreams I do resent. I never know when I shall find Those em'rald orbs within my mind; Like serpent's stare, These eyes ensnare, Corrupt my soul and turn me blind. Each mortal has his sin to bear; These eyes are mine, to my despair. All that they see, The

The vagabond soul drifts onward Never looking back, never hesitating, Leaving behind curious onlookers And, perhaps, a few that care. Where does the vagabond go? Ever the wanderer, the traveler, The soul continues forth Looking not for a place to be But a change thus far elusive. No one place holds the gift, And so the vagabond moves on Unsteady but content with its search The soul longs for something it can't find But what does it seek? The curious onlookers wonder. The traveler leaves imprints, And nobody remains the same Some never notice or never care But some are left abandoned. Feelings of longing, they seek the wande

Gazing into the light of the moon, I cannot help but wonder; I contemplate meanings, purposes, Reasons for existence and how we cope. Who are we? Each of us, so individual, Unique entities so different, Yet striving to be so similar. We are summations of reactions, The culminations of experiences. As clay, we are molded by hands, The tools of Reality, making us who we are. But the mind wanders, Taking a turn for the unbeaten path. What would it be like, I wonder, To break? How would it feel to shatter, So completely, So thoroughly, That you are no longer yourself? The molds we are made into may be weak, Or the grip of Exi

And lo! The taint has manifest! Our sin is blackened gold; The cost of greed, for decades paid by nature young and old; Our sickly ways, since dawn of days, like fatal venom's hold, Corrupts the sands, the seas, the lands, and turns our homeland cold. Our sin, our greed, a glutt'nous seed, destroys the hearts of men! Empty souls and hollow shells; a series without an end; They scar the soil without a care, and never stop to mend; The taint holds tight, and with cold might, they tear, they shred, they rend. I fear the future of this world, ruled by these dismal husks; Under their charge, there is no hope for dawn after the dusk; Can

A deathly touch, from dust to dust, and so it's hope I rend. It's life I take, true bitter hate, the mem'ry dies with them. So shall they mourn, filled with scorn, targeting me with rage. I have no choice, nor morose voice, so regret shall be my cage. The inspiration fades with time, or so the wise men say. Or is it just that all things die, tormented by decay? I fear that nothing shall survive, if planted by my hand. This touch of mine, cold, unkind, converts to lifeless sand. If on my knees, my hands entwined, I pray to God above, Will my tears speak out to Him, and earn the muse's love? A sacrifice, whatever price, to those wh

A hollow shell, a woman torn, She must suppress her heart, forlorn; To love, and cherish, and be held so high, Yet, such desires she must deny. Her fears are great, her morale low, With each lost suitor, another blow; She shields her heart to stop the pain, Yet doing so is lover's bane. She reached out once, her trusted beau, Yet all he did was cause her woe; He sought the thrill of passion's flair, And for her heart, he did not care. Such traits she cannot bring about, So now her heart is filled with doubt; A doubt that pushes men away, And all alone, she's doomed to stay.

Shades of gray throughout the sky, Blocking sun from earth-bound eye, Pollute the blues of airy heights But shield the eyes from blinding lights. Beauties of their own accord, Clouds only want to be adored; Yet all we do is give them scorn, And from our hatred, tears are born. With cloud-held sorrow comes the rain, Shedding tears for all their pain. Lightning splitting skies asunder Cries of anguish- crashing thunder. Mis'ry gone, they flee the skies, Fearful of our loathing eyes. In their place, a colored bow: Atonement for the cloud-borne woe.