a plea

a plea for pity

a soothing reprieve

a willingly wept prayer

a wretch’s last unsubtle cry for mercy

hopeless words half said, half breathed

a beckoning death knell

could not sound sweeter

and yet fate would not allow such ease

a desperate wail

scraped from within

feeble efforts to meekly appease

the undeniable truth of unease

he is for hero-ed

his skin is his fatigue

no need for woven camouflage

the jungles as quaint and known

as a well worn living room

its secret ways deftly etched upon his unsleeping eyes

leader, rebel, ordained ruler

hero, deity, thief

rescuer, reaper, ruthless

wounded yet does not bleed

so many lay shielding him

of their own or owned will

unblinkingly i stare

awaiting

something urging me to keep looking 

there…. 

stealthily skulking off between the overgrown rushes…the unyielding reeds

so say the flickering shadows at the corner of my eyes

but

somehow unfitting

he lies too-still

all grossly revealing

that he is mortal in death.

 

Unfolding Flower

unfolding flower
with what hope
will you be born with?
with what dreams
will you be enthralled with?
with what desires
will you be allured with?
with what sorrows
will you be shrouded with?
where will you face
to seek the sunlight?
where will you turn
to weep with the rain?
where will your seedlings
fly?
where will your petals
fall?

dead and dying

young and old

dead and dying

when did we believe we were invincible?

when did we grasp immortality?

when was it ever judged fair to lose a life

where are the ones that never returned?

why do memories fuzz and fade?

why do we forget what will always remain true?

young and old

newly born and aged beyond

dead and dying

dying and dead

and yet

there are

the ones who are dying to be dead

beguilingly bought

without being told
there awaits
a curiosity
sought
and often
beguilingly bought
in the very
palm of your
hand
held tremblingly
of bridges and roads
and paths engraved
of grooved hills and narrowly lined valleys
of promises and preening predictions
and lengths that improve longevity
but what use of this fortune without the digits
to grasp it?

there lies tragedy

there lies tragedy
just beyond the hills
of stones that dot the
fields of the listless dead

*
whatever rest
that was promised
lays unslept

*
treacherous livingness
slithers hither and thither
and nibbles at the ashes
drying upon the waves
hurrying to capture
the soul that remains
trapped in the clutches
of its cursers

*
mercy be upon
all those who slumber
in the slighted hope
of idleness