Every Dying Man

The idiot realises soon,

That the one who played the fool

Was, in fact, the bearer

Of the widely available craver

Who, in search of precious nectar,

Makes himself a spectator,

And soon finds himself

To become withheld

From uncertain thoughts of a man,

Who brought evil to this land,

And scars the earth of his Mother

With all the hate of his Brother,

And soon he finds,

That all this he left behind,

Was for him, for his own good,

And that he would

Realise this when it was too late,

For too many people would be born to hate,

Like they always do,

When one doesn't want them to.

A Friend Is A Foe

Hello, to the humble,

and hello, to the rumble,

This isn't wrong,

But now that you are born,

You should really know,

The meaning of a 'foe',

May differ from person to person,

And lead to some excursion,

About the fact that your friends,

Who sometimes may offend,

Will make you see,

Whom you really envy;

And as this friend makes you see,

The world's greatest mysteries,

You will notice pretty soon,

That your friend is your enemy too.

Ha Ha To Me, Ha Ha To You

Ha ha, and there it goes,
Almost done, almost,
And painstakingly true,
It never finishes for you.

There goes one,
Following a bridge,
And there goes a train,
Falling into a ridge.

(WORK, it will never finish, will it?)

Understanding

The largest one consumes,
And sets the pace on fire,
While the race is on,
It cannot help but, admire.


What a world we live in,
And this one, we see,
It's half empty, 
And makes us bleak.


So, we rummage and plough,
Till everything is settled,
Or till something is found,
Into which we are nestled.


Solitary, but most times together,
Building new places,
Creating what is to be,
And what makes us better.


And while imagining, 
We close our eyes and often discover,
That impossibilities seem battered;
But, impossibilities, now they,
Are what will make us matter.

Gifts And Things

What we see beneath beauty, 

Is what we know about the truth,

A flowing stream of craving,

The moon becomes crude.

Put together a puzzle,

And find what is dear,

For everything dies,

And it all becomes clear.

So when it comes,

On a rainy day,

That thing you've wanted,

And which had to stay,

Bring a little dream closer to you,

And things will remain,

Like you want them to.