Broken Seeds

Innocence has been buried with the lives that have been lost
When children's' lives are about playing with guns to mimic and foreshadow their future roles in a forgotten land.

Then all hope has been demolished
With the olive trees that surrounded peace
Uprooted by grim stones of seduction
Which has been laid to rest with the unborn child
With the birth of a generation that no longer has childhood
That cannot have a longing for what is yet to come.
Marching soldiers and tanks is in their sight
Their future is a war that they do not understand.
Thrown in without knowing
It's a world that's not their own
Their eyes only see what it can comprehend.
Its force creates monsters
When their fed stories and images of death,
While their hunger grows deep within,
No longer the joys of sweetness,
But bitter awakening to a world that has stolen and raped their mind
Of wonders that they will never know
Of dreams that they will never summon.
As the armed draws them in,
With blind eyes we see,
And with faulty hearts we feel
Nothing can comprehend what cannot be felt.
On bent knees we bow,
With teary eyes we give,
The child will not answer our calls.

Wingless

I am a bird that has lost its wings

Flightless

I cry in pain for I am bound

Drifting slowly into solitude

Pushed

The weight of stupidity doesn't wait

Broken

Mimicking awaiting flocks

We are alike

We break no boundaries

We desire no goal

We wait for another

To do what seems necessary

I am a flightless bird

No wings, no wonders

I have chosen

Will you wait with me?

Endless

I lack in my heart what I cannot give
Ideal statements plunder through pierced lips
Agony trails behind trenches of greed
Solemn binds, everlastingly live
Weakened await foul play
Blinking wonders trail behind
Shuttered glows blown through seldom may
Awaken sickened souls
That mean no harm
Portrayals of sweet painless thoughts,
Believing seems enough rolls
Away into bottomless pits
No one hears their cry.
I cannot have what I cannot give.
Weary eyed, we try once again
And thus the cycle begets.

Downfall

It hurts to remember

I don’t want to remember

What have I become

Nothing

I am nothing

Deep

Seeking pity

Nothing

Where has the strength gone?

Falling useless pits of agony

Streaks of salt touch warm shadows

What am I?

Silent eyes blinking at a reflected image

Am I what I do not seem?

I have lived and I am living.

We wonder what we are

And forget what we can become

We fear more what we can see than the unknown

Shame laughs at our sorrow

Seeking pleasure from our downfalls,

We rise to meet the welcome.

Seekers of the Truth

"Sometimes I write not for myself, I writer for the truth."

Provoked by the innocent

A sudden awakening

Jolted numbers wash ashore

Lifeless treads across concrete jungles

Mask petty desires of an open hand.

Gulps of shallow air

Reaking drafts pulling in

Floating souls below broken-winged doves

 Silence burdens weighted lips

A pen's stroke soon lifted

Still motions grasped violently

A single mark outnumbered

By shunned laughter along distant waves.

Among few, truth is sought

Outdated falsehoods are swept aside

The temperament of the heart confounded

Although single drops of hope remains

Flush of certainty it will become.