Heavens Denied

I, the artist, am going to search for the very essence of beauty in this world. For I know, only the eye that cares to see it would claim it once it comes in sight. I will know and understand innocence and joy of living even though I will search for a long time. There will be pain, there will be sorrow as well; but I am knowing enough to realize that there will be happiness at the end of the road and it will wash away everything and leave them all behind as a simple memory that would search for a smile for those yesterdays. And eventually she would come and I'll taste the very grace of love and how it defines my life. I am the horizon.


He, the poet and the dreamer, is going to question forever and be lost within the search of answers. The very woes of complication would befal him as he knows of no start and would reach no end. Though with time and the amourous grace of a wordsmith, he'd unleash numerous works and poetry for everyone to read and those that give even a glance would have the answers he seeks. And eventually, when he is touched by kindness and passion, he would turn to his heel and run as far as fuel and his feet would take him. He is the mirror.

Who am I?

Ode to the Smiling Face of Death

Oh, death, the goddess of eternal darkness
Who comes smiling with arms wide to embrace me,
Like a child I am to you, innocent and fearful
Though you know of no human curses
For you are never vindictive, never quick to anger
You grant freedom from the misery and woes of man
To take me to the land that turns on its head to ours
And yet, I remain fearful of your power over me
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Oh, death, glorious in such dark radiance
Justice is a virtue for the weak, as revenge is for fools
Why must you make a soul wait to see your face?
Longing to kiss you, so to part the gift that was taken
Do you not see that time beckons no knowledge in us
Coy and conniving he is, toying with our flesh and mind
Why must you keep us bound in his chains for so long?
Knowing that you are our guardian to what lies beyond
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Oh death, forever benevolent and gracious
Why remain silent, with radiant eyes dulled in wisdom
And I know that blessed are those that die young,
Though you rob those that love, the one of their joy
Why do you not tell them that she has found peace?
And that she waits for those she loves patiently
As we are alive, we are also dead; don the smiling mask
So to lead us to where there is a beginning and no end
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Raw
La Mort est certaine, l'heure uncertaine.

This might probably be the last poem I write for the next few months to follow. Though I doubt that there is anyone who'd care, but there is life to catch up to and demons to put down again, though it be a battle lost before it is even decided on.