Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Chasing the Fairy #13




Love is a putrid fruit
To the empty soul
That, dejected, weeps dry tears
And prays false prayers
To a deaf god.

Love is an illusion
To that intellect
That, arrogant, rejects all
That senses cannot account,
Substituting chemical interactions
For Love’s reactions.

Noble is the lost hero,
That rejects those that reject
The illusions they proclaim
And knows truth,
As wheat from chaff,

Worthy is the scholar
Possessing an agile mind
That does not stumble
Upon discoveries,
Made and unknown,
Who walks with faith
Upon infertile soil
That bears miraculous fruit.

Blessed is the lover,
That brave soul
Who is above all
Friend of hope,
Enabler of faith,
Light in the darkness.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Words on War




By: Gus Victoria 

War, the blood-sealed oath
Of a people to die,
Forsaken peace
To conquered smoke,
Captured in a memory,
Gone in an instant,
Remembered today,
Forgotten tomorrow,
Repeat the dance,
Death the partner
Leads ever faster
Despair and sorrow,
Gifts to the wedded pair,
Hope beaten,
A casualty of consequence,
A prisoner of circumstance,
The dagger buried
In a heart to the hilt
Is the only mercy promised,
Is the only release given,
Mars rules a vale of tears,
And shadows stalk,
Bridesmaids to Death,
Harbingers of Destruction,
Doubts fill the empty minds,
As they try
To remember a pastoral past,
A remnant of hope,
A sliver of peace.
Then the cannons roar
To quiet the rebel heart
Still whole,
The cries rise
Up through blackened skies
And no one pretends to hear,
We burn together,
We die alone.
War is our inheritance,
Death our birthright,
And Hope…
Hope is…?