As time goes by, thoughts entangle and wane,
Even Umbrellas stop Singing in the Rain!
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I love you!
In my head, heart and knees,May I always have the pleasureOf your company,Dearest, please!
Will the Crimes
Have fatalRepercussionsFor them?Lets hope and pray,They do!For if notThis CountryWill certainlyBe going to pot.
Volatility,
Try to predict,Future’s Sky,Look at the clouds,Feel the wind,Ask somebodyHow to win.But no matter,What you do,Nor how hard you try!Predicting the FutureIs an impossible lie.
The loneliest poet in the world,
Has never cradled a poem,Has never a rhyme, heard.His loneliness is his poetry,His emptiness, his poem.It’s hard to write,When the heart feels not rightImpossible, to be a poet,When loneliness turns you into stoneAnd you feel and know it.
Some say,
That’s not really fairPersonally,I find it liberatingOut-reaching,Deeply touchingIlluminating,Full of loveAnd gentle care,With enoughHope,To spare.
Like in a trance,
Surrounding Glory,Of images, of feelings,That emerge like,Scintillating lightsIn spurts, that hurt,Like giving birth,And then, your poetic childIs born, it’s there,He’s gloriously ‘fair’And he becomes yours,Forever, to share,In every breath you take,And you slowly,Glide away together,Like, pure white Swans,In Love, floatingUpon Life’s Crystal Lake.