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Death is quiet,
not an edit,
not a deletion but a slight pause.
What's gone becomes a song
that is sung
by what is left.

Come live with me, and be my love;
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By...

Friday nights –
The mad, bad streets,
Pacing, thinking, wishing, seeing
Cold nights, tipsy, hot blood –
Deep dives and long drives,
Strange, loud, high neighbors.
It ends on a Saturday morning
Sleepy, Saturday...

Squares, circles, and stars
invite me to play.
Lines, curves, and squiggles
show me the way.
Letters, numbers, and signs
never suffice to say
that you mean the world to me,
more than the light of day.

If you get to know me,
I'm afraid
you might not love me—
or even like me.

You would see what
scares me most,
maybe even use it against me

You would realize
I'm only fine on the surface—
that deep down, I...

A ball of burning fiery fire,
It dims gradually from its glory.
A canvas partly black, partially white, life is reduced to this...
Can it even be called life?

A moment of rekindling of the flame,
It made me crave for...

It so happens he told me
When a great fire ravages a land
Beneath the thick layers of ash
Some embers fester and burn
And with a kind wind -
A fire may yet arise

Hope is the sense of believing
Believing that things will be better
Better than they are today
Today we take a stand to strive
Strive to achieve more faith
Faith to propel you when life is at a standstill
Stand still, be...

When air begins to hesitate,
truth becomes simple.
Love while you can.
Speak what you mean.
Forgive quickly.
Stand fully.
Because when breath grows thin,
regret grows loud.
Live now
so your last breath finds you...

To my sanctuary I return—
A tranquil night.
I wash the city away
From the ebony of my skin
Under a soothing stream,
Warm as the sun
That I long to see
On such a lonesome night.

Standing at a cliff’s edge
Far into the sea I see
The ancient breeze drawing close
Rippling the bare sea
Gently it stings my eyes
Swooshes over me with grace
With the sound of a howling wolf-
And the scent of salt and...

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little...