pain of siren and captain.

raise the sails and prepare the deck, the rains are heavy tonight.
not a single being has seen through to the eye of this storm.
but i, the crew of one am set to sail into the nothing and hopefully find the calm eye.
i took what the land carried for granted, the calm, tranquil weather,
the graceful sunlight and the fact they everything was charted
but now i've left the land and my sea legs aren't use to such troublesome waves.
rifts and and whirlpools lay ahead, monsoonal tides and the seas seemingly ten thousand foot deep.
my compasses aren't working, i've lost my sense of direction.
spiralling out into the domains the davey jones has claimed for his own.
my harpoons are sharpened, silver and bright. glinting in the dimly lit winters eve.
to piece the heart of any that crosses my way be it of man or beast.
the kraken, chtulhu or selkies. white whale, megalodon, nothing will destroy this ship
i'm not searching for atlantis, treasure nor earth.
i'm following the song of the siren, a lone siren. the notes are not harmonised nor are they orchestrated
but never has a song captivated me in such a way,
if i were to say the voice was of an angel, the word would still be oh, too lacking.
i pass my days above and below deck, drenched by rain from fountains other than the skies
and the sickness in my stomach is caused by other means than the sea.
the days are growing longer and the night so much darker,
every moment seems like an eternity while i search for my life.
in the time it takes, my sails decay, my bow rusts away.
the wood begins to rot and my spoils and gifts decline to imperfect gems.
my body, riddled with pain and disease not as much as you, but i'm none the wiser.
the pain from the journey stays as a landmark in my mind
like rocks against the shoreline, ever present and constant.
drowning for a moment to gasp for air again and the cycle repeats, day-in and day-out.
maybe the tides will be merciful and carry me soft home,
not back to land, i've never felt at home there
but it's selfish of me to dwell in my pain, sulk, cry, die.
you've experienced it too, tenfold and what more?
i adore you for it, i adore you song. although you sing of pain and sorrow,
it's masked by beauty and happy tones.
i hope one day i hear that song uttered sweetly by my ear
as i lay my head down for the final, waterlogged time.

short and to the point.

i'm planning each painful step on a map,
locking it away inside my heart.
until the time is right
and i can feel whole once again.

faye.

your eyes are the greenest of forests, your lips match the colours of the earliest daylight break,
where the shadows leaves the light and the yellow, pink-ish tinge covers every inch of land.
when the sun reaches it's highest, i can see every thing of beauty;
the soil that lies above the clouds and the ghost-like cover that keeps the violent rays of light from blinding the entire land.
i can see every inch of forest, where the trees divide up and reveal a crystal lake.
tainted neither by sand nor mud but kept concealed by a giant, man-made dam,
but darling, i've seen what it's like when the dam breaks and the flood ensues.
henceforth, i declare even while ravaged with flood:
no beauty is lost, not a single graceful breath is ever taken by it's hand.
my hands would move like a fire, setting alight the ditches in your sides.
the limbs that are my fingers will trace hearts up and down your hips
and the kiss of both our lakes will moisten the shoreline that are our lips.
i'll hold you head to my chest, let the beat of my core mimic that of your own
i will carry it sweetly, i will forever hold it tightly inside my chest.
forever merged as one until my final breath is drawn
and i utter the most important phrase and the three words that never lose their meaning.
as i drift slowly into the cosmos, i'll arrange the stars into your name,
the stars are the only things that can match your beauty and even then they still have a long, long, long way to go.
no matter how many times your beauty was endangered, it somehow prevailed where others would fail
and now it has a reason to rest soundly in my arms because i will protect it with every form of defence i have.
if it ever falls in danger again, i'll cut them in third, i'll rip them in two
they'll regret every hurting you.
i'm sorry it's taken so long to discover this place but now that you know it's here, likewise with me
i wish to never leave this place.

untitled #7

there once was a land, charred in demon's wake, all the plants and creatures, burnt alive to a crisp.
it was a deserted wasteland covered in nothing but ash and blood.
it with as home for myself, it was a place i resent so much.
the demons played among the remains, tore down buildings and purged the land.
casting salt over the landscape so nothing could ever sprout again.
they dug up every root and tree stump and drained every lake,
they destroyed the only place i ever felt at home.
when this world was at it's darkest, not a single thing moved,
time stood still among the remains, the sunlight would never visit again.
but open up the clouds did, broken apart by a beam
not a light from the sun but from heavens it emerged.
down came angel, the most beautiful i ever saw.
she cast a spell upon the demons and made them crawl back to hell.
she told me 'dear, do not be afraid. i'm here to mend the broken land.
i'm going to take away the hurt, the broken and the damned.'
so she did, she brought light back to this place.
she cast rays across the plains and rebuilt every broken town.
she refilled every last lake exact the the nearest drop,
replanted every single fern, grew again every flower and tree.
she made the land beautiful and gave me hope once again.
a feeling greater than any dismay, sickness or pain.
a feeling of belonging, a feeling i cannot explain.
for a moment i was in heaven, a heaven crafted on by this land
the land that the angel bought back, the land that is now hers.
she told me 'darling, i will never let this land fall into turmoil again,
i'll be here forever whenever you beckon my name.
i'll always be with you for better or for worse.
i'll keep you within my heart as long as mine is in yours.'
with that she spread her wings, braced and picked herself up
she flew towards the sun and disappeared from this place.
left me alone in this land that began slowly dying again
and when i scream out her name, my cries ring out in vain.
my cries ring out in vain.
they circle around every lake and ocean,
get lost amongst the rain.
beaten down by the heaven, she's not coming for me again.
i'll find a way, i swear. i'll make this right once again
i swear i'll bring my seraph back, i need her with me now.
i'll fight every force of nature to find a way to make love stay.

unless it's with you.

my heart is in pieces,
my heart is in two,
my heart isn't beating
unless it's with you.

my body is aching,
my mind is a mess.
i can't string together the words
i want to say to you.
i know it's being said
so many times before
but darling i swear
i'm in love with you.
i'm in love with you.

my heart is in pieces,
my heart is in two,
my heart isn't beating
unless it's with you.

lights are disillusioned
they're eroding through time.
my speech is so broken
my eyes are drowning
beneath this flood.
my lungs are filling
with water and blood,
alcohol and smoke
and i'm choking on my words.

my heart is in pieces,
my heart is in two,
my heart isn't beating
unless it's with you.

from summer comes winter
and from winter comes spring,
from spring comes autumn
and summer again.
i'm waiting, i'm waiting
i'm holding onto hope
because without something to wish for
i have nothing at all.

my heart is in pieces,
my heart is in two,
my heart isn't beating
unless it's with you.

unless it's with you.

untitled #6

throughout the abyss, decorated by infinite dots and specks.
constellations formed of gods and otherworldly beings by random splattering of colours and patterns.
a bow aimed at the heart of galaxy and a thirteenth mysterious sign to defend it.
stationary ammunition surrounded by moving colour, a spectacle for a moment only to be lost forever into the dark.
the mindless art-observers and the no-faced critics dub this form of illustration as blasphemy.
following no convention, no rules. carrying no value and holding no place
but what if the critics are mistaken? what if they've all followed a lie?
who are they to say that the skies themselves were not crafted by a 'god'?
what if the true path to absolution doesn't lie beyond the stars...
but within the stars themselves?

coffee house.

in a quiet little coffee house on the corner of confusion and pain
people gather to collect their thoughts and comb over the events of their day.
men and women alike, venting through thought and poetry
strung up again by uncertain ties, like wind chimes against a breeze.
tangling so precariously over a hole in the earth.
sounds of pen scratching to paper lies within this place,
an aroma of coffee beans and salt adorn the air
and through the curtain covered windows, the sunlight slowly creeps in.
filling in the borders around the page with pictures of little boats, happy couples and other unpainful things.
as pretty and innocent as this comes across, the contents of the words are much in contrast.