You were only passing through.
Fleeting,
A wisp of gentle air.
My heart skipped a beat or two
When I heard your breath
But I remember now,
You were only passing through.

You were only passing through.
Swiftly,
You sent your heart away.
But for a second or two
I thought you belonged to me,
But I remember now,
You were only passing through.

You were only passing through,
Fading,
Like the last rays of the dusty sun
I long for an eternity or maybe two
But the night falls
And I remember now,
You belong to yesterday,
No longer a part of my tomorrows.

A place beyond

We search for purity in a tainted world,
search for a shimmer of light
In a world shrouded in darkness.
Always searching, never finding.
Bright-eyed hopefuls that we are
But hopelessness trips us.
They tell of a secret place,
where purity lies,
few ever found it,
because we are often blind.
We are fools,
wallowing in our self-deceits,
wanting, yearning,
for things beyond our reach.
Wanting, yearning,
to satiate our selfish needs.
They secretly laugh at the hopeless fools,
what's right before their eyes,
they will never find.
For they are blinded by their own shadows,
tripped by their own deeds.

Smoke and mirrors

And we busy ourselves with the things that may us feel important
But are we really?
Smoke and mirrors
We live in a make-believe world.
Smoke and mirrors
We see what we want to see,
Hear what we want to hear.
We speak meaningless words
Laugh at the emptiness we create.
Silent the secret screams
That sometimes want to be heard
That sometimes ache to deafen.
Smoke and mirrors
We live in a make-believe world.
This is how we want it to be
This is how we could live our lie.
A lie, a life,
Separated by smoke and mirrors.

 Such was a poet and shall be and is
-who'll solve the depths of horror to defend a sunbeam's architecture with his life: and carve immortal jungles of despair to hold a mountain's heartbeat in his hand.
Ee Cummings 

We are just going round in circles
Slowly spinning out of each other's universe.
Picking up the pieces,
Of all that had been shattered.
Do I rejoice, do I weep,
For a day wasted, for a day lived?
We said our goodbyes,
With eyes that were dry.
No tears to be shed,
For a day wasted, for a day lived.

The World Is Too Much With Us

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

The world is too much with us; late and soon, 

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;— 

Little we see in Nature that is ours; 

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; 

The winds that will be howling at all hours, 

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; 

For this, for everything, we are out of tune; 

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be 

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; 

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

Hollow dreams

Let us go to places unknown,
Secret gardens and islands old,
Magic dragons and friendly trolls.
Feel the wind and the tragic snow
Sail the seas and hear the roosters crow.
Hold my hand and we will go,
Hold our breaths and we will know,
We have found the rainbow's gold.

Hear the crickets moan,
As I play on the old banjo,
You sang me a song of sweet chariot swinging low,
My lips to the words I follow
And with you I sang that song of old.
Swing low, sweet chariot, swing low.
That tree of weepy willow,
so full of mellow,
It bends and it sways wherever the wind blows,
To the ends of the world with you I will go,
But then the night shatters and I am all alone,
It is only but a dream hollow.

Lovers spawned
Lovers spurned.
You left me in a summer dream,
The cold rays of the sun,
Gave not a trace of warmth.
I watched the light dance across the poppy fields,
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world,
Without you.
And then I wept.

The weaver

The weaver of my dreams,
It is you who have trampled on all that had been precious.
The dreams that had once been sweet,
Are nothing but crumbling dust now.
To whom, does your heart belong?
One can no longer tell.
The shadows you cast,
The fabric of lies you weave.
Into a hopeless pool,
I fell,
Deeper and deeper
Till the point of no return.
Weaver of my dreams,
My weaver,
My reaper.

The one

I keep trying to outrun you,

But I know it is a Sisyphean task.

You always win,

I can only admit my defeat.

The halcyon days are yours,

But me, I shall live in the shadows

And the chaos,

For the days to come.

Laugh you may,

For you have earned your right,

To watch the spectacle,

Of an insufferable fool. 

Like the court jester,

He hides his grief behind his painted face.

If only, if only,

You could see.

The gift he keeps,

All wrapped beneath the layers of sorrows. 

The gift that belongs,

To the one whose eyes are not blinded 

By the neon lights and gold,

To the one whose heart is pure,

To the one whose eyes see eternity.

To the one,

The only one. 

Made up my mind to hate you,

But I never could. 

Made up my mind to give up on you,

But I never did. 

The heart, it does what it wants to,

Till it aches and it breaks.

It runs head-on into that wall that you have built,

It shatters but it tries to mend.

Tis' old heart, tis' old madness,

Why does it love to play the fool?

Sometimes you just want to dream forever,

To believe in the fantasies you have created in your mind,

It is perhaps the idea of you I have loved,

The you, whom I have idealized,

The you, who is the perfect bubble,

That I want never to burst. 

Perhaps it is the fear,

That the real you and the real me,

Will never learn to love all our flaws,

That has me pushing you away,

And me running with all my might,

Back to where dreams lurk. 

Paradise

We have forgotten each day is a gift,

Another chance for us to live.

The morning light shines through the window,

And I thank God that I have the eyes to see,

And the hands to feel,

The beauty of His creation. 

I walk through the garden of the fallen paradise,

Smell the blossoms of the apple trees,

And I marvel at the gift that is free. 

I pray we'll never forget

Nor forsake

The path before us,

The path which may seem to have no end,

But the truth is,

That paradise is within our reach,

A hope we can almost touch.

The darkest hour before dawn 

Is the finest hour of a dream beyond.

When the first ray of light 

Touches the horizon

I know it is a dream long gone.

Like the morning mist,

You linger for a while,

And only for a while, 

I can say you were mine.

Death

What is death?

A friend 

A foe? 

Does it incite fear

Or does it bring relief?

Do you welcome it with open arms

Or do you turn around and run?

What is death?

Is it the end 

Or is it a new beginning?

When it comes,

Does it bring an end to the suffering

Or does it take away all that have been good?

What is death? 

A dark secret that we seek

Or one that we hope never to unveil? 

To it, we give our own meaning 

And its face, is as we have painted it to be.

The trouble with love is...

Finding it

Keeping it

Holding it.

The trouble with love is...

Watching it take its last breath

Letting it die

While you watch

Not daring to say goodbye.

The trouble with love is...

Not knowing what it is

Knowing what it is

And letting it slip

Through your fingers.

Two can play the game

Two can play the game, you say.

But I do not know all the rules.

You say her name once, twice, thrice

And all I can say is I lose.

Two can play the game, you say.

But it is a heart you take,

And it is a heart that you break.

all I have to say to you is goodbye. 

Two can't play the game, I say 

Someone will have to lose,

Someone will have to weep,

It is you I will forget someday.

Two can't play the game, I say.

Someone will have to walk away.

Perhaps, perhaps I will understand someday,

All the games you play,

And all the rules you make,

And all the rules I have broken. 

Sing a requiem for the living 

For they might just as well be dead.

With eyes wide open 

But they might just as well be closed. 

Where could I keep you

But in the recesses of my heart?

The time has come 

And I am all ready to fall apart. 

Will I ever forgive you?

Will you ever forgive me?

We sing of love that doesn't exist,

We talk of tomorrows that will never come. 

I shut my eyes

Close my ears 

You took away my beliefs 

Why am I still standing here?

What is mine

What is yours

Hands no longer intertwined.

Hearts that no longer speak.

Winter takes away all the memories of old.

Youth that was bought and sold,

For a dime, for a laugh,

And now there are only regrets,

For a dime, for a laugh,

Now the time has come 

For my silent tears.