Do you feel like giving up the fight?

On your cold gray stones, breaks the sea
If my mouth could only speak the feelings that arise in me
Carefree the children shouting on the beach at play
Happily the sailor sings in his boat at bay

In dreamlike state seeing your face now disappeared
I’m still hearing the sound of your voice gone silent
At the foot of your rocky crags, breaks the sea
The tender grace of a day long lost, will never come back to me

And in the silence of my lips my thoughts spoke questions

What have I been fighting for? Can I remember what I’ve been living for? Can I feel it taking my breath away? Can I feel myself suffocating? Can I feel? Have I replaced my pride with pain? Have I come here to hide? Did someone break my heart inside? Have I grown weary? Do I feel like giving up the fight, you and I? Am I in ruins?

And in brilliance of light from white sands
I glanced up and noticed your radiance
In your happy voice your eyes betrayed a pain
And in the silence of my lips my thoughts spoke questions

Have you reached the end of the road? Do you feel yourself losing all sense of control? Have your thoughts taken their toll, and you feel them breaking the spirit of your soul? Did your faith walk on broken glass, and now await the emptiness to pass? Does anything last? Have you grow weary too? Do you feel like giving up the fight, you and I? Are you in ruins?

Have we tried living on our own, after it all burned down? Did we stand too close to the fire, searching forgiveness? Do we understand how it feels, when it’s time to live and let lie and we can’t get another try? Did something inside our hearts die? Have we grown weary? Do we feel like giving up the fight, you and I? Are we in ruins?

As I glanced back up there you were still
And as the sun shone brightly on the white sands the pain had left

my heart, my belief

I pretend there's nothing wrong. But inside I feel the hollow emptiness grow. So I hid my heart in a nest of roses, out of the sun's way, hidden apart. In a bed softer than the soft white snow. Under the roses I hid my heart. Why would it sleep not? Why should my heart be so restless, when never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred?

Lie still, I told my heart, for the wind was quieting down, and mild leaves were muffling the keen sun's rays. Lie still, for the wind on the warm seas dozes, and the wind is more restless yet than you are. Is there a thought in you still stinging as a thorn's wound? Why do the fangs of hope deferred torment you so? Is that what bids the peace of your slumber farewell?

The green land's name that a charm encloses was never mapped in the traveler’s chart. And the sweet fruit that grows on its trees was never sold in the merchant's mart.

In the world of dreams I have chosen my part, to sleep for a season and hear no word of true love's truth or of light love's art.

And I pretend there's nothing wrong. But inside I feel the hollow emptiness grow. And a cloudburst came over me … and I felt my spirit break, for I had lost all of my belief. And realizing my mistake, I whispered a prayer in my heart.

And as through a timeless void, I felt my heart speak to me quietly. I need love … Divine love. Please forgive me, for I understand that I've been blind. Love is what I need to help me know my name. Through the cloudburst came my insight and I felt my spirit fly as if through centuries. And in a flash of lightning I felt my reality. And I realized what it takes.

The message from my heart was plain to see. Make me a promise. Show me how to live. For I know you won't forsake me. I want to believe ... I have to believe

I speak not your name

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not … your name. For there’s grief in the sound … there’s guilt in the blame. Will I ever be able to feel again? May I hold you one last time? Maybe I will feel something again. Deception leaves a metallic taste ... the untruthfulness is more than I can bear … I can no longer convince myself … when I speak to you, my voice I no longer hear… and it rips me apart. Why am I trying to hold on… when the pain is more than I can bear? Perhaps if I can forgive me … forgive you … forgive us …but the scars wont heal.

How do we play our broken strings? How do we feel something that our hearts won’t allow? How can I continue telling you something that’s not real?

The truth hurts … but lying is worse… the pain of it too much. How can I give anymore … when my love for you is different now? How do we play house in the ruins of us? It’s like running back into the fire, when there’s nothing left to save. It’s like chasing the very last train, when you already know it’s too late.

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not … your name. For there’s grief in the sound … there’s guilt in the blame. The tear that now burns my cheek reveals the deep thoughts dwelling in the silence of my heart. Thoughts too brief for our passion … too long for our peace. Where are all those hours gone now … will their joy or bitterness ever cease? You may have all the happiness … mine will be the guilt.

Forgive me my dearest .. forsake me if you wish. Your heart is stronger than mine, and no one shall ever break it .. whatever may become of us. For now … the bitterness in this soul I cannot shake .. and our days appear more fleeting now, and our moments more sweet.

One sigh of your sorrow, one look of your love … and I’m captivated .. rewarded … reproached.

You warm my heart

Sweet friend of mine. I have reached these lands newly, by a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only. With mountains toppling into seas without a shore and oceans that restlessly aspire, that surge unto skies of fire. With lakes endlessly outspread lone and dead, their waters still and chilly. Yet I felt warm as I thought of you.

In the cold of dawn, where the traveler meets sheeted memories of the past, shrouded forms that start and sigh as they pass the wanderer by. White-robed forms of friends long given in agony, to the earth and heaven. And as the sun rose, and gave warmth and light freely, I thought of you my dearest friend.

Sweet friend of mine. How soothing your kind companionship warms my heart and refreshes my soul. Thank you for coming into my life.

My Gift, My Sacrifice

As I watched the crimson colored clouds bidding the dying sun farewell, my disquieting thoughts prevailed. Of light and darkness … harmony and discord … beauty and fear … freedom and entrapment.

I was thinking about you tonight. And I was thinking about my gift … My sad sweet gift, to shine light upon darkness and wash away gloom … the only limitation was its being ineffective on you my dearest. For against your deep sorrow it had no use. So I hid it … buried it. For the perversity of it was a constant reminder of my sacrifice. In graceless mutiny misrepresenting goodness I dwelt, until it was impossible to continue.

The shiny skies were swimming now in the moonlit expanse. As ray lit clouds gleamed glory, yet highlighting a dead spot where the light lay spent to darkness. How this serene landscape was being threatened by thoughts of bitter self reproaches as I dealt them silently.

My love, how fleeting our serenity was? … under constant threat by tormented reality … saturated by sadness. Was I beginning to lose my mind in the depths of your despair? Frail limitation prevented me from being your companion on your journey through hell. In this I failed you. By cowardice I was distanced … whisked away to the light … away from suffocating darkness.

And how I abandoned you in the darkness of your prison … please forgive me. Was not the warmth of my love for you enough … enough to melt the ice from your heart? How can I blame you, when it’s me I can’t forgive?

You are my greatest sacrifice … for my gift I can no longer hide.

Sadness

Would that I were a dry well, and that the people tossed stones into me, for that would be easier than to be a spring of flowing water that the thirsty pass by, and from which they avoid drinking. – Kahlil Gibran (January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)

A deep sadness has taken my heart ransom. There is no price to pay for its release, for the kidnapper has no demands, other than to inflict pain. There are days when it seems that I will certainly drown in this immeasurable well of agony. How has this beautiful sad sweet life come to this? I keep asking myself rhetorically, hungrily awaiting an answer. My mind continually reasons around in perfect circles, as minds often do, only producing more questions, and no answers. No approach seems to have much success and I abandon all hope of understanding. Answers are as evasive as peace and closure.

I want to run naked shouting at the top of my lungs crying laughing sobbing … immersed in pain … enveloped by sad heartbroken emptiness … where I fall I wish to remain … for the dust to cover me, hide me, comfort me. Instead I willingly consume this poison in small benign meticulous dosages; its thoughts … memories … sorrow … happiness ... pain. I’m looking at this strangely familiar face in the mirror, it still looks pleasant although its eyes reveals perseverance turned weak; its mouth is silent while my heart is screaming.

It’s over and impossible to save. My soul is hollow. I am surrounded by silent passersby, a silent nightmare where nobody speaks. I’m offering sand deliveries in the middle of the Sahara, trapped on this lonely island where hopes and dreams turn into ashes, and illusions are dashed into broken mirrors.

As the sun sets

The last bits and pieces of daylight
before the clouded curtain of a long night:
deep reds and purples of a burning chalice
colors of mourning
signaling the end of another day.
As the trees and sky gradually melt and fade
into one another, the last light
takes with it not only our ability to see
but all the bright things of a lazy afternoon.
Dreams and wishes, a day's delight - disappeared,
leaving us alone within the darkness.

The truck arrived with merciless intent. An army marched in knowingly and determined. I watched memories of a life together carried out, one by one. I felt pieces of my heart go along and melt in the clear sunlight before it could make it to the rusty belly of the beast parked in the driveway.

These walls now shared the emptiness in my heart, but I did not notice it … for the crowded suffocating heartache drove me outside. Outside .. outside to the clear sunlight and the crisp cold air as the sun was setting … watching. Watching the truck rev up and disappear into the sunset where it came from … never to return.

The ache in my chest sends its poison through my veins, pulsating … beating a steady rhythm … ignorant to the screaming agony raging through this weathered spirit.
Inevitability is blazing its trumpet of finality. As the sun sets I’m down on my knees, praying for a sunrise.