Whispers of a Soul

“I love you”,

And

“Thank you” he said…

Grateful for every breath, as he lay every night in bed,

For once Lego blocks filled his heart with hope,

 There were days when it was just to cope.

Words unsaid, desires unfulfilled and feelings unexpressed,

“Why are we always in a rush”, never to say, but just a hush.

   13 Years had passed, he simply felt trapped.

“13 Years!” she shouted,

“Why can’t you just die”

“I love you”

And

“Thank you” he said, unable to cry.

With white walls and coats, he had spent his life.

Trapped inside his mind with strife.

It was time for them to say their goodbyes,

He wanted to tell, but only with his eyes.

“I love you”

And

“Thank you” he said….

For 13 Years they were mere whispers in his head. 

“A story straight  from a hospital bed”

Time is of the Essence

With the steps of our future we walk through this gloomy door,

Executioners, Enigmas and rules find abhor.

“Unless, someone like you cares a whole awful lot,

Nothing is going to get better, it’s not”.

Words left unsaid, deeds left undone,

Life is skipping away, the arrows clicking has only just begun.

“In headaches and in worry, vaguely life leaks away,

And time will have his fancy, tomorrow or today”.

Life is but a grain of sand,

Precious and unique, confusing and lost like a barren land.

So astonishing it is that we live without hope,

Burdened by own miseries, we could not cope.

His presence is what made moments,

His actions turned to omens.

He ticks and tocks his way around, marking his presence,

And, we must remember one thing that no matter what “Time is of the Essence”. 

The Howls of Silence

He waited there in the blistering cold,

As he saw life’s fragile textures unfold.

 Where the voices in his head grew louder and louder

Could it not be? He was without bother.

On this long, soulless journey he had to ask, “Was the right path taken?”

For many have forged their way to a path they had soon mistaken.

Was it their faith that drove them there?

Was it belief?

Or

Was it the something as profound, yet fallible and unruly as their animalistic urges to simply survive their grief?

A saint is not without darkness,

And a sinner not without hope.

Then why is it that we’re tempted to such a miscreant slope?

To believe in Good, we must believe in evil,

To know of Heaven, we hear of Hellish upheaval.

To walk a path that leads in hope of somewhere,

Only to end up trudging on a trail of our worst nightmare.

We know of man, who’s lithe and weak when alive,

but is stiff and cold when death thrives.

At times, moments seem like centuries

And years seem mere fragments of a second,

Too much for his taste he had finally reckoned.  

His bouncing finger is what told him he was alive,

For a few more seconds he only wanted to survive

He heard the roars “the war is over, we’re free”

And at that very moment he felt Knightly.

He did what any soldier would’ve done who was misguided,

And just as he came, he left un-abided.

Before darkness covered his guise

He whispered with his last sighs

Revelation 21:4 ~ “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor cries”. 

An Ode to Immortality ~ "Thou Art A Curse"

Oh how we humans wish to be immortal,

So we could roam through timeless portals

Why should not we die?

Why should not we dread death?

Why should we tell a lie?

Why should we long for an easy breath?

For the world is full of things unsettled

And the laws prove that man is mortaled.

Every man will live out his life,

Some in prison, some in exile and strife

The physician reduces each pulse with his scalpel knife.

So let us swear for just a while,

We put our faith in God, for there is no denial

We solemnly agree that we will love our freedom

‘The very gift of life’

Yet, we wait and ponder of over the day that we will be free.

Behold, the world has befriend the devil,

Oh and how these langur’s have perished to bring nations to level.

This world is an ‘inn’, discovered on the path of life’s travels,

So the ones He prepared, whether they be brave no matter what the perils,

Should thou take courage and open thy eyes

Only to see the bitterness of lies

And oh how the wonders have worked only to see, all those nations free.

With time itself winged, we watch the chariot smear its coldness

As the angel of death appears, standing there with much boldness.

Nevertheless, we the ‘hesitant's’ of ‘it’ take no heed,

As we see the martyrs of our land who since then have buried their seed.