The pen hath wrought all the verses and lines: Iambs and quatrains set upon desired measured meters or if not, in free reckless abandon of the mind’s statements of beauty and splendor. Yet as much as the splendor, apparently, it is! Come dismissals, cynicisms over these lines — detached they said to reality, only the… Continue reading

Genuflection, in prostrate reverie — Of the desire to pray forth all the Request for each and every intercession Of salvation, appreciation through an Ejaculation of thought and emotions in deep solemn — Reflection and strong calling of His praise, for His Praise Yet if all of the offering and pleas, sometimes in silence, In… Continue reading

V. But what if Destiny tempted, played a mere game? As if all, everything an illusion — Mirage: fatal, strong imaginations Of what that never was in the first place. Forever much, unrequited in form, Of realities behold, false façades: Mere affection, all but empty charades Of the worried state of the heart’s desires. Yet… Continue reading

IV. Almost a score and short has passed us on, When our paths last crossed and met upon: And that last time was full of despondence Of the love failing us of its presence — Thus the sojourn begins so away, apart, From the failures, tribulations indeed Of disbelief, and of a broken heart: Driven… Continue reading