I pray every day that I have it in me to Live an honourable way: that I live no longer as me, but we. That I don't succumb to strife, That I can earn my wife, That I can devote my life to You. I will nurture the Shadows of us in Order for them … Continue reading #212 – Natal
#211 – The grave
Are we all to be utterly Destroying, shattered into dust, Thrown into oblivion and Cast to the wind? Through whispers the universe Speaks, our master, tell me the Secrets of the abyss. The eternal decay of our Mortal flesh reveals the wheel, Which must turn, and continue To crush our bones as it Ploughs onward … Continue reading #211 – The grave
#210 – Although
Although I lived Like snow among Aryan rays, In my final hour I will not forget my last Prayer: I won't die for naught.
#209 – The warble of love
How I wish I could sing My song to you, The highs and lows of how I adore all that you are. But, my voice falters, and breaks Like everything in life eventually does. So in my private time I Construct a poem just to give To you. To show you a glimmer Of what … Continue reading #209 – The warble of love
#207 – Make belief
I haven't got the will nor strength To fight another day, so I Make myself believe that there isn't Another one to come. That the sun won't rise, The moon won't sink, That there isn't another day to fight, So I make belief that tomorrow will never come. *This poem was influenced by the song … Continue reading #207 – Make belief
#206 – The nation
Of all the places and times to Dwell in, the one that We belong to is that which Relates to our nativity. Our natal patrimony, The chain of which we are, The links that make us. We are more a chain than a link. Through nation, through patrimony, Through matrimony, our legacy and Heritage lives … Continue reading #206 – The nation
This face of mine – chapter IV.
He wiped the dust away which had settled on his shoulders. He had stood staring at the gates for a while now, and thought of how they looked like fashionable versions of what surround a prison, after all wasn't that what an old folk's home was in a way? A prison for those still imprisoned … Continue reading This face of mine – chapter IV.
