Tag Archives: soul

The Last Song

Posted in Poetry English by

When the last song is sung, nothing is denied—not love, not guilt, not longing.

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Come let us sit by this brightly burning fire;

let us forget all and everything, the good and the dire

Let the high flames defrost our frozen souls,

all the cold voids within and all the black holes

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Come let us search for and grab our broken violins;

let us sing songs, and remember and repent our sins

Let the warmth of our company mend our broken hearts,

all the joys and regrets - together and in parts

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Come let us lament, the fading memory of old love;

let us caress our nostalgia - the delicate, grey dove

Let the stories we tell mark our long and sad past,

let them cherish our tears, which dried up so fast

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Come let us remember innocence, which was lost forever;

let us applaud corruption, the seduction was so very clever

Let us rethink all our deeds, so lofty and so dark,

let us not pass a harsh judgment, with a red mark

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Come let us sit by this brightly burning fire;

let us blow it anew, the flames loftier and higher

Let us say farewell to everything, ambition, and desire;

warmly welcoming the end, the savior, and the pyre

A Dialogue with the Mirror

Posted in Poetry English by

‘You wretched beast, you pitiful ghoul’ —the cruelest conversations are the ones we have with ourselves.

An intense, confrontational poem structured as a dialogue between the speaker and their mirror reflection, exploring the painful disconnect between outward appearance and inner reality. Through powerful metaphors of shattered mirrors, extinguished suns, and lightning-struck trees, this raw verse examines the masks we wear and the darkness we hide.

You! Yes you – you wretched beast!

perhaps you are me or just another priest

Trying to creep and trying to crawl,

within my sad existence, a great, dark hall

Trying to wear and trying to see,

my skin, through eyes silent as the dead sea

You! Yes you, you pitiful ghoul!

perhaps you are wise or just an old fool

Don’t try to understand my twisted life,

a tree struck by lightning, yet playing the fife 

I stand strong and mighty, towering over all,

strength is what I feign, in the end I will fall  

You! Yes you, you pathetic creature!

perhaps you are true or just a damn preacher

Don’t try to love my tired and broken soul,

I look like a knight and inside, I am just a troll

I am but a mirror, shattered into a million shards,

keeping you all blind, I always hide my cards

You! Yes you, you faded, grey wraith!

perhaps you are ignorant or just acting on faith

Don’t try to be kind, with empathy on a roll,

a sun with extinguished fires, I am a lost soul

My sins were all black, they spoke of my desires,

my regret is now cold, just ashes and burnt pyres

The Wizard of Hope

Posted in Poetry English by

There was a prospect once, glittering like a gem;

a hazy perception, even a possibility of ‘them’

Hope and light were easy to be found;

for they had to just wait to be crowned

The birthplace of sun and its golden orb;

a miracle making two hearts throb

Now there is just ‘him’ and there is just ‘her’;

existing in orphan moments, so many they were

Hope is a must, but all its predictions so grim;

maybe some hope for ‘her’ and some hope for ‘him’

For they need to live beyond each other;

following their dreams, one after another

That is his quest which kills his soul;

searching for a little hope for her, in a black hole

For her, he can create hope, out of thin air;

as love makes him a wizard, capable and rare

But for himself, there is no hope to be found;

for his wand is useless, its fate has been bound

This is him, a wizard conjuring hope;

an exhausted soul, slipping down a never-ending slope

That is her, climbing up the stairs;

towards the stars, without any cares

May she reach the stars and may she find the light;

and may he conjure hope and be her dark knight

The Princess and the Jeweler

Posted in Short Stories English by

It is a story of times long gone by. It is a story from ancient Egypt - long before the time of the Pharaohs, when people still worshipped the old gods. The new gods and religions emerged long after. It is a strange story - a story of souls meeting, drifting apart, and then coming together again, across the thresholds of time and space.

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Hope in the Darkest Hour

Posted in Poetry English by

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

Read more: Hope in the Darkest Hour

You sitting by that grave; yes you – the old hag,

appearing to be brave, holding onto your old bag

Why do you sob and why do you weep?

Was it your son, whom you loved so deep?

Please, do not cry; wipe off all these tears; 

he is not gone; pray hush all your fears

Look into your heart; you will find him there;

he is but a memory; with a face so fair

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

You holding a broken toy; yes you – the poor boy,

crying your heart out, you have lost all joy

Why do you sob and why do you weep?

Was it a treasure, you intended to keep?

Please, do not cry; do not be cross; 

it is but the first step on the stairway to loss

More toys will come, each precious and dear;

happiness and wonder, each new year

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

You, lost in your reverie; yes you – the old man; 

all sick and tired, separated from your clan

Why are you sad and why are you so glum?

Do you feel bad on what you have become?

Please, do not be sad; do not detest yourself; 

it is but the destiny, life always solves itself

Your life was but a chapter, in the grand book of life;

your soul was but a traveler, playing the merry fife

It is your time, my friend – your darkest hour;

seemingly the end, joys and sorrows at par

All seems lost; and all seems dour;

all appears grey; and smiles are all sour

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