Thus shone the Sun…

And thus shone the Sun,
she in all her glory–
radiant, resplendent,
perfect in her being,
until came the Storm,
dark and unyielding,
forgetting that for all he was,
he was still beneath her
and could never join
her in her heavens.
In time, he passed,
as all storms must,
if only to allow her
to shine again.

Passing On

And silence,
in all it’s painful beauty,
is what will remain
when the echoes fade,
and memories with them
shall pass into nothing;
only then, and only then,
will I find my peace
and in forgetting be forgotten,
given to the Void
and to Oblivion,
only when nothing remains.

Dies the Fire

I whisper to the world
words uneasy for me,
except when offered
only to you, though
now I find they fall
and fail at carrying
the meaning of the moment,
and mark now my faults;
and I find before me
a fate unwinding
against my will,
without design
and though I struggle
to stand this line
I wonder at what
the world will think
of the hero who falls
from lack of passion?


Fire your gift to me
and now I burn,
upon this pyre
my heart laid bare,
to be devoured
by the flames,
by your gift;
exposed the soul
for what it is
and what it is not –
alive in our breath,
and memory,
only to die
when both are lost,
ashes consumed
by the ghost of love.
But if not for the spark,
I would not burn,
I would not be,
and there would be
nothing to forget.