Lost words of a poet

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They smiled each day
As Humility made them stronger
The meek and amiable voice
Wasn’t heard.
The gazes of satire
On filthy inhumanity
From the large windowpane
Unobserved.
And words deformed into meaning
Eventually.
Time couldn’t rob them of
From who they were.


The remains of those lost words,
Incite us to embrace an illusion,
Of time, being in a scurry.
As we cross paths
That unite us
With our mortal being,
The wanderer mocks at us
Steer us towards the light
Away from this misery.


Few lives we live
And for few
We outlive decades,
For the selfless
Mere blood and flesh
To ourselves, we deceive.


In this land of grief and fear
We die and reborn
Everyday.
From the ruins
Of those lost poets
And the souls
Who lived a life
Of discontent and drear.

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The Last Shine

Cave Painting by Charles R. KnightCave Painting by Charles R. Knight


Oh golden sun,
And the last shine.
Snow covered fortress, that broken
Once nurtured in your shrine.
Flows the wind from north,
Tears their flesh apart, killing
A thousand souls divine.


Oh golden rays,
Hidden behind the mountain, so far
Clans, those dejected,
Hiding tears with their scar.
Painted on the lands, undivided
Holds the untold truth.
On the trail leading no-justice,
Walks the crumbling youth.


To save our sons and women,
The wars they began.
The time has yet to come,
For our glory,
And those lives we lost for our clan.


A replica of the sun,
Burning down it’s own hope.
A Billion years at the blink of an eye,
Carved sharp on the mountain slope.


To find answers those hidden,
By the river,
Buried below the ocean bed.
Paths closed for ages,
To stars, we must turn our head.

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