look at you big-hearted fools

with love in your eyes as you smile alike

arms twisted tight in a locked embrace

like death around an angel’s throat.

when the sun rises, it shines for you

and the grasses dance

among the flowers.

your grace

it paints the city skylines

a clear, golden haze every morning.

they love you,

don’t they?

you and your big hearts

that’s the kind of thing people want

in a world of shieldless wars

and lonely wanderers without homes.

and in a world of empty corners

rusty street signs without color,

i fall like an angel from grace

like blood from the rooftops

blades from the earth.

and i fall—

just a little.

big-hearted fools,

how do you love?

don’t you know

this is a deadly place to love?

once, i think i loved like a fool

twice, i think i fell too hard

paused before i spoke again

three strikes and i’m out.

if the greatest gift to receive was Life,

why must humanity suffer its strife?

have we been fools, roaming without an aim,

who fought to last until the end of the game?

how cruel Life has been to us, i suppose,

for letting down hundreds of thousands of those

with greatest faith in what living brings,

but ride to freedom on Death’s broad wings.

Death plays fairly, the game the living own

under equal eyes, we are skin and bone

he views us not by power nor by fame

not wealth nor status nor beliefs nor name.

Life treats his victims badly through his greed

pure luck, pure chance, pure fate, pure fortune’s deed

but Death shall claim his lovers all the same;

he waits for no one to begin the game.

whatever did you leave me for—

oceans crashing forevermore?

beaming globe, blinded night

or fields unending, chasing light?

vibrant cities once awake

now abandoned and at stake

blank emotions, faces dead

sunset bleeding crimson red

town devoid of any reason

passing by a lifeless season

dusty skies, deserted floors

raging tempest, thunder pours

where has mankind ever gone

before the golden crack of dawn?

will you come back just like before?

whatever did you leave me for?

like lilting oceans, wandering seas

palm trees waltzing in the breeze;

in sultry air, a seagull’s flight

across the hazy, distant night

sunset over crystal waves,

and into solitary caves:

where Siren songs once rang below

like memories some time ago

evening decked with stars awake

dreams reflected in the lake

silver lining, darkened skies,

a lonely sailor’s compromise

until tomorrow’s early dawn,

the night is painted, skies are drawn

like isolation’s silent tune

divine, beneath a crescent moon.

i don’t know if you remember,

but these windows were open once,

letting in a dancing breeze

chasing away the heat

wildflowers sat between the steps:

steps, on which we ran

up and down, for days at a time,

and we were barefoot as we ran

frizzy hair, like burning flames,

kissed by sunshine, golden light

lunchtimes on picnic blankets,

and trees like cathedrals above us

and rainy nights, outside the windows,

stars, barely visible, through the clouds

moonlight streaming through

this open window, where we sat,

dreaming of what was to come

o, sweet nostalgia, remind me again

of songs we used to sing to sleep,

raindrops’ steady, beating rhythm

and i don’t know if you remember,

but we were children once,

in the youthful summers, humid days,

in a hazy, mindless, dreamlike state.

sultry evening, late October

palms alive with golden leaves

waltzing breeze between our lips

slightly reddened, crimson sleeves

eyes once shone with an ocean’s depth

but laughed in stark depravity

heart strings pulled, a deathly grip,

twice the force of gravity

losing, reeling, sight of ourselves

two drunken fools in love tonight

hazy dreams of distant stars

hopes arisen at full height

but if the wine was never drunk

and if the rose had never bloomed,

could our future be preserved,

or would it, nonetheless, be doomed?

because you swore you’d never go,

but somehow left me anyway,

I could not withdraw from the game:

this awful game you tried to play

lonely midnight, late July

ashes scattered on a tomb

requiem, a mourning song

joyous days lost in the womb.

youthful oblivion drifting away

like the leaves of a palm by summer’s day

as hazy sunsets grow dark each night

and the breezes cease to take off flight

misfit, traveler, what shall He be?

as though we were individually free

a name forgotten to the world, unknown,

and He wanders off, again, alone

cry a river’s tears before the dawn

for hope is lost, and reason is gone

if ever soundly we slept in a shade,

we fought to death, by sword, by blade

’twas just a dream, now it is time

to wash your hands of bloody crime

dear friends, return back home again

and morrow’s day shall greet you then

your pride, your royal majesty,

is far too great for me to like

you pound your iron fist against

the castle walls, which crumble down.

gold and silver tapestries

and brightest chandeliers once burned

before you pounded iron fists

before the walls came falling down.

your pride, your royal majesty,

lies far too much excessively

beyond the borders of your realm

a lonely kingdom you preside.

o’er hills of gray which wandered lost

and streams of gentle, quiet blue

proudly, broadest meadows grin

and stand up to your fearsome wrath.

stop in tracks, the pounding heart,

whose envy tore the world apart

greed, which never satisfied

the wrath of unrelenting pride

pointed fingers at a name

burning fury set aflame

too late to run, too late to hide

anger, which shall not subside

eyes unmatched with striking fire

overfilled with great desire

crimson bleeds a dauntless haze

regret for borrowed, joyous days

straight ahead, where death awaits,

handful of impending fates

life, a briefest moment’s time,

overturned by foolish crime.

silent car ride, lonely skies

sheets of coldest, whitest lies

mourning city, early dawn

she ignores me, she drives on.

empty streets, where people stride

with arrogance and falsest pride

distant sun, awake, alive

she ignores me, on we drive.

she says she’ll come back for me

again, one day, or two, or three

holds my hand, her fist in mine

a taste of old, forgotten wine

from where she stepped back into then

and laid eyes on me not again

but I was back behind the bars

and dreamt away between the stars.

fool! I waited, wondered why

losing senses, mid-July.

find me someone there to love:

liberation way above.

find me, but I shan’t let go

lose again like long ago;

this time, I rule with iron fist

spoiled rotten, never kissed.

“do not leave me”, as I plead,

raging waves of washed-up greed.

I cry again, a child’s tears,

grieving for my lonely years

without fingers intertwined,

sightless world somehow gone blind.

just a beacon in the night

so long as she maintains her light.