Monday, August 7, 2017

The Chronicles of Lies

I listen to the ghost of my past,  scribbling words of wisdom.
In my head, the voice is recast, in shades darker than my soul
End, closer than before.

I see her grow more than a horror,  love that never gave me repose,
My mind transpired to her mirror, the paintings captured the reflections. 
I disappear, she remains.

She held my hand in vain, an affection lost to the winds of morrow,
I kissed her lips in pain, her ghost lingers in my thoughts,
She appears, I fade.

The promises act their roles, in the theatre of lies, I play my part 
Her smile inspired ballads, retold, heroes die, villains die, but my love oh dear,
Play ends, the curtain falls.

Shades darker than the grey, as the clouds gather, her smile fades,
I hear the little angel say, despair my friend, is your mistress,
She fades, the lies continue.

I play my part, in the self woven lies,
I play my part, in the chronicles of my life,

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

The Symbols in Chaos

The ten tales, gold platted fables,
Hand picked, polished, and let to fly.
Ninth of a piece, twirling in the wind,
The never seeing eye.

A dangling clef, tremolo plays,
Quivering voice of sleep, they fade.

The eighth fable, fabricated in white,
The seventh a sin to foretell.
Crackling fire kindles a remembrance,
Bereaved toll of a forgotten bell.

The pitch vibrates, lets out an angst,
Faith lost in the sinking carpal.

The beast from hell with head count of six,
Break one, form one, divide your fear,
The clock hands made a five,
The all seeing eye, doesn't hear.

Timber of faith, quivering sound,
Southern wind heard a faint cry.

The division bell toll four, morning, and night,
Amber lit sky hit a chord of three.
Pondering the everlasting meaning,
The sky lays, staring on earth, never free.

The tempo rose, sky the limit,
Heart beat along, match they say.

At two in the noon, the sun would smile,
Down at that one lily flower.
I wonder what the sun ever thought,
Locked in an unseen tower.

- Tim

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

The Castle of Metus

In the forest of shadows, amidst the setting darkness,
A crumbling leaf echoes through the walls of fear.

As the horse hoofs dig a mark in the dirt,
The rain recedes into the shadows of draught.

A twig breaks, the crackling kindles a fire,
Drips the moist dew, as night hones the darkness.

An echo is heard, a low hum of sorrow,
The forest shrugs, a shiver runs down its spine.

The knight in clanging armour, raises his sword,
The knee buckles, a fall of the century ensues.

The dark night, clad in fear, raises its shield,
Against a sword sharpened to the grit of sorrow.

The knight fights the night, fear a fools bravado,
The clanging armour crashes again, shatter, the sound echoes.

A spear of nightmare, thrust deep into the flesh,
The knight raises his arm, the sleep is lost.

The clanging armour and silence of the shadows,
Clash into the night, as the castle of Metus trembles.

I fight myself, the shinning armoured knight,
I fight myself, the shadow donned night.

I fight, and rally to win the Castle of Metus.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

The Gypsy Queen of the Cold Summers

'Winters I love,
Oh, but summer's just, but a rush'
She was poetic, alluring, and interesting.

'I like the snow,
The withering sun rays off the clouds'
A drizzle, a memoire to her silence.

'Can you gaze,
Into the far future, with tales of love?'
I shifted my gaze, winced a little.

'Whats the matter ma'am,
Why are you in pain, are the seasons alright'
She was ignorant, I could judge by her sight.

'I have questions,
Does the crystal ball have the answers?'
I winced again, troubled by the haze.

'The cold touch,
And memories, I wish they shattered'
She went a little pale, fear I guess.

War i see, she winced
The crystal ball shattered, wars I've seen,
She rose with an air of illusion.

The Friday of Life

As we see the sunset,
Into another horizon,
The days are numbered,
The nights un-numbered?

We talk an endless tale,
Legends and heroes play,
The victories of another life,
Is the end just another strife?

Scared of an unknown truth,
We sip on our iced tea,
Head banging our way to glory,
On a Monday, are we really sorry?

I see us parting ways,
On the fork road from the legends,
I made a poor choice you say,
But its just another Friday.

- Justin [Head banging to an unknown album]

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

What If...

It was one of those beautiful mornings,
When he last spoke, 
'Mother, I feel lonely', he had said,
My nature took over, 
'Your life, your rules', I finished the thread.

It was one of those beautiful mornings,
When the knock came to my doors,
A letter he held, between his fingers,
'Ma'am, your son, he killed himself'
The world crashed, 'What if', the thought lingers.

It was one of those lovely evenings,
I heard the ring of the phone,
The dipping sun, beauty of the twilight,
I ignored the constant ring, annoyed I cursed,
The twilight grew into a cold night.

It was one of those lovely evenings,
When my father opened the letter,
'I tried to talk, but there was no one home',
'I am lost', my father couldn't read no more,
The world crashed, 'What if',  I had just answered the phone.

It was one of those silent nights,
The ring broke my sleep, and I answered,
'Can I talk to my sister', he pled,
'She is asleep', I ignored with a retort,
The night was a bliss, into my dreams I fled.

It was one of those silent nights,
When her mother wrote,
'Your brother is dead', she would write,
My life stood still, and guilt played her tune,
'What if' I had woken her up, that night.


- Tim
Inspired by a post in 9gag

Monday, March 6, 2017

The Perfect Crime

Whats the perfect crime,
He asked, with a twinkle in his eye,
I was perturbed, taken aback,
Why do you ask? I chimed in,
Just a passing frenzy, was his reply.

I do not know, I retorted,
A lier you are, he giggled a tease,
Well, if you ask, I may,
But alas, I can't satisfy your quest,
Thats perfect,  a smile of unease.

What is that bothers me the most,
His question was to the point,
I guess, my indifference,
A smile played, as he stared,
I guess he was clairvoyant.

And I saw the reason behind his smile,
The perfect crime, he replied, 
Is the one you never get caught with,
And his smile turned grey,
As every happy memory of me died.

The perfect crime, is to forget you,
Erase your existence, his words I feared,
And before my eyes, I ceased,
I ceased to exist, with every laughter,
The perfect crime, he sighed, as I disappeared. 



- Tim