- Autumn Skies
- Cross Country
- Uhhmmm...
- Fireworks
- The Fall
- Tornado
- Blue
- Spooked
- Live the Fantasy
- The Hearts and Values of Gods
- Maybe
Autumn Skies
I watch the sun,Draw across the sky,
As summer turns to autumn.
I watch the leaves,
Changing,
Changing,
Changing into golden birds,
Flying through the air.
The air feels so much colder,
Now Autumn has arrived,
Leaves falling,
And birds flying.
I wonder what it would be like,
To be the leaves,
To be the birds,
To be the Autumn skies.
Cross Country
The runners line up,The klaxon sounds,
The runners start
Like a pack of hounds.
The runners run
Across the course,
Their breathing's already
A little hoarse.
Down the track
And past the field,
The runners feel
A little chilled.
Up the hill
That's very steep,
None of the runners
Try to cheat.
Down the road
The runners race,
Now they're running
At a quicker pace.
The end of the race,
They've done their best,
They feel their hearts
Beating through their chests.
Uhhmmm...
If I, said I, think I want...No. That's not right.
If I wanted to...
Oh god how do I phrase this.
Could I... Might I...
Oh sod it!
WHAT'S THE BLOODY TIME!!!?
(please?)
Fireworks
Brightly coloured flames from-Highly reactive metal compounds
Solomly encased
Inside paper and metal,
rocket shaped vessels,
With long white fuses -
Erupting into the night sky,
Like the life of a star
In fast forward -
Winking into existance and
Exploding in Fury
The Fall
It looks beautiful.Millions of psychedelic colours
Swirling, flowing.
Almost fluidic in their movement,
Like a whirlpool.
Oh no.
It's changing,
Fading into darkness,
Going, and now,
It's gone.
But wait.
I feel a breeze...
I'm moving.
No,
I'm falling.
Falling down through nothingness,
Falling into some pit of oblivion.
And now I see,
A small pinpoint of lights,
Growing,
Growing larger as I fall..
But I'm not falling.
I'm being pulled towards it,
As if being reclaimed.
I'm getting closer,
Closer...
Closer...
It's right in front of me...
What happened?
I'm lying on grass.
Who is that bending over me?
Wait...
My head. It hurts.
I must have fell, and struck it.
I'm...
Alive.
Tornado
Twisting, turning,Ever changing,
Everlasting.
Visible, and yet,
Not.
Erratic, and yet,
It has a pattern.
Always moving,
Never stopping.
As indomitable as a god.
Blue
As deep as a lake,In the Mediterranean countryside.
As sad as the only bird,
In a vast green forest.
As lonely as a lover,
Burdened with grief.
Spooked
I hear voices,Moaning,
Wailing in agony.
I smell flesh,
Rotting with a smell
Purely of putridity.
I feel a chill,
A shiver of fear
Running down my spine.
I see shapes,
Indistict forms
With ghostly auroras,
Winking in and out of sight.
I taste beads of sweat,
Salty, warm,
As I run in terror.
Live the Fantasy
My mind is slowly rotting,As a body does after death.
I feel my essence being pulled
From my once vibrant,
Now battered body.
I concentrate less
On how things are,
And more on how things could be,
How I wish they were.
Life to me is of no import,
Whereas dreams are necessary.
I wish I'd long ago realised,
To dream life,
To treat it as a fantasy.
Take me at my word,
Do what you can to feel complete,
Follow your dreams,
Live the fantasy.
The Hearts and Values of Gods
What be in this world of mortal men,That hath value to the likes of gods?
Where many see lies,
When they search for answers:
They find labrynths of fallacies,
Mazes with no exits or entrances,
Since their lives are born to them;
I see truth.
Where many see war,
When they look outside:
They find fighting, death,
Cries of pain, agony,
Torments both mental and physical,
Everyday, everywhere;
I see peace.
Where many see hate,
When they offer none:
They find anger, rage,
Again the deceit,
Which binds it,
Again the struggle for power,
For domination,
For multitudes of different desires,
Which drives it;
I see love.
I see these in myself,
As I learn,
As I grow.
And as I search my soul,
It becomes clearer to me
That these are the values of the gods,
That we may find them in our own hearts.
Maybe we were given these values
So that we may live and prosper,
Or maybe,
In ourselves we have the hearts of gods,
That we, ourselves, are gods,
That this is an everlasting dream,
In which death is not eternal slumber,
But means to an awakening.
In our hearts, our souls,
And in the stars,
Lie the answer.
Maybe
Maybe dreams are real,And life is what we imagine,
Because it is built on rules,
And nothing can truly be only black or white,
Or yes or no.
There are too many shades of every colour,
Maybe dreams are Eden,
And life is our exile,
For He must understand
We are not totally to blame,
And so we are partly forgiven.
Maybe when we are sleeping,
We awaken into a dream,
If only for a time.
And when we awake,
We dream, and live
Under the rules He gave us.
Maybe, instead of living our dreams,
And following them when we awake,
We should awaken into our dreams,
And stop dreaming the harsh
'Reality' we know.
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