Tired of walking down,
the cold and dark alley of pain
Treading the pathway,
leading to no loss no real gain
He stops to take a tired breath;
and has an epiphany
Beyond the Edge of Storm
In the present,
in this very moment;
there is a white shell,
of lonely existence
Within that shell,
your soul breaths;
and your inner self resides
The Ugly Face of Happiness
Happiness is a wretched prostitute;
in fancy clothes and a painted face
Her seduction is old… oh so very old;
but it tastes fresh on the lips of desire
THE DARKNESS WITHIN
I want a knife;
the sharpest,
of all the knives in the world
The knife with an ivory grip;
and a gleaming edge;
engraved with obscure ruins
The quest for the silver lining
The quest goes on for the ever-elusive silver lining;
fueled by an ever-strong optimism
