Moving On

This New Year I pray
for the world to move beyond
the clutches of past



Have You Lived Enough?

How will you cross the mountain pass?
with nothing but a frozen heart.
How will you swim against the rapids?
when your brimstone heart weighs you down.
How will you touch the stormy skies?
a tempest ravages your heart.

Has your body worn out enough?
with blood flowing like sand in glass.
Has your numb mind made up its mind?
when you forgot to find its key.
Has your black soul swallowed you whole?
A chassis as fragile as glass.

Will you exist in memories
when you enter the chasm of
eternity? Or will you drown
in the nothingness that you came
from? Then where will you finally
rest your worn heart made of blue glass?


There She Goes

There she goes, she goes back to same,
she goes from white love to black blame.
She’ll insist on selling them a
river to the sea of mayhem.

Give her your solemn bandaged heart
and wait as she rips it apart.
She guides you by her fingers numb;
river to the sea of mayhem.

There she goes, she goes back to light,
leaving you lost without a sight,
without hope, swept away in the
river to the sea of mayhem.



Paved a dreary path through the waking,
a solemn passage in time.
Severed tears to quell the aching,
rather poor funeral crime.

In a world as cruel as her fate,
she lay draped in white so pure.
She had said that it’s never too late,
Now I stand beside her unsure.

The warm smells of laddoos and incense,
still drift across her bright room.
She surrendered to a steep descent.
while I sunk in a selfish gloom.

I dredged the dry riverbed of thoughts,
to recall our vivid days.
Braided streams of old memories’ knots
twisted in an endless maze.

A fiery beast climbs upon the sky,
threatening to scorch again,
The glorious era’s end will lie,
with the ashes of her reign.


The Highway to Hell

Riding on the wrought plains of woe,
a marginalized road paved with blackened snow,
steeped in boiling sweat of those undone,
road rollers broke upon the hollow tracks overrun.

Rising above the dust of worn out souls,
laid to rest under the smoking cigarette rolls.
Turned to stop the blistering march of the funeral band,
found myself done in on their command.