My Religion

My religion has a blurred visage,

Can only be felt,

It is harbored,

Unrepressed,

 

I risk running over the idyllic religion,

That’s too wanting,

Too difficult,

I will leave it untested

 

My mind,

Stands on its infallible ground

Has the highest aptitude,

Of weaving its own skewed view

 

Can weave this moment,

Heaven in hell,

Or hell in heaven

 

Speaking in unrefined natural language,

It stands strong like the tree of wisdom,

Roots sunk deep into the infinity,

Glossed over goodness and evil

 

How excruciating it can be?

Shunning that inner voice

The voice of the heart,

That defines true self,

Secret to all powers,

Just to appease the unappeasable?

 

 

 

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My Broken Heart

I now reproach from the inner war,
That feels like a storm, a gale
Crammed with deathly lightening,
Making my heart unable to escape the damage

Unable to control my emotions and sensibility,
From the unutterable pain that pervades through my heart,
Unashamedly shading tears from the litany of lies,
That leaves my face with a shell shocked reality

The litany of lies had colored my world,
Fantasies had turned it into cloud nine,
It was a constant battling illusion,
That naturally rode me on top of the world

I desperately seek words of comfort,
Those that have escaped my imagination,
My broken heart falling into paralysis,
Of a fiasco, a ruin that I have become
In a dark world endowed with loneliness and stabbing silence

I will hang around for a universal impulse,
Raise my head and wait for a new dawn,
Witness the sky bring me new splendor and sublimity,
Of a new life faithful to my own aesthetic dreams

Moment in Time

Time is the making of mankind,
Meant to test the faith of those with belief,
Comes and takes over the remote of life,
Controls the past, the present and everything to come

But we are all trapped in this moment,
Snowed under by the deathly silent,
The cadence of the heart so intense,
As if trying to say something

Our skins crawls with an instant horror,
Of the dark scars that live within us,
The past filled with stabbing pain,
The past that’s no less deserving of any sympathy
We rave and crave for a sweet relief

The awe-inspiring moment is here with us,
That we may free ourselves from yesterday,
From the pain, the suffering and the guilt
To breath the scent of air that is so refreshing,
A constant reminder that we are vulnerable but lucky,
That we can view our lives the way we always hoped

Time never changes the vision in our hearts,
It is the sounds of the mind that can causes change,
We can shield our sanity with our defiant hearts,
Accept this golden moment and celebrate our lives
And wait to see what tomorrow brings and repeat it all over again!

The man in my mirror

Aston kamunde

Where does the answer exist?
Is it the passion that nearly ran me blind?
No, it is not,
For it bled my heart,
A thousand scars evident of the dark presence,

The answer exists deep inside me,
I feel it every time I breathe,
When I open my eyes to a new day,
Every time I stretch out my hands to receive the gifts of a new day

I see it in the reflection of my mirror,
When I see a man with golden dreams,
Decorated with desires for dazzling heights,
A sense of competence and peace overwhelm me,

The man in the mirror seems to hold the key,
To my daily pursuit of fulfillment and the seemingly elusive happiness,
Away from the tangle of lies and empty promises,
Flowing and moving around all around me,

The man in the mirror knows the key,
To the mystery gate of unchaining…

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The Lonely Heart

Like an abandoned cactus in the desert,
That stands alone, guarded and hostile,
In constant struggle fazing all hurt feelings,
Though confined with an instinctive sense of things

The dark clouds seem to represent,
The reflection, a mirror of the dark soul,
The rhythm flowing harshly in constant quest,
Of a touch, a smile, a cold comfort,

The lonely heart reproaches from its trance,
Of the pleasant possibility of salvage,
From a world of solitude almost suffocating,
Of utter despair and bleak sadness

The lonely heart comforts all the senses,
It perishes all forlorn thoughts,
That just maybe in the tropical paradise,
Rests a safe assumption of a possibility of repair,
To the connection severely damaged.

Colors of Love

Foolish chase of childhood dreams,

Artistic with delicious perfume,

Sweet but forbidden,

Strangely compelling

 

Eyes are looking and searching,

To lock the pattern,

Of superficial denials,

The web of hypocrisy

 

Waits, waits and waits for the hunter

To be cooled by a single touch,

Spread everywhere but hiding,

Uses a rare moment of surprise

 

Instantaneous choice between two evils,

Blind leading passion to a dark world,

Churns so heavy like a ship in a storm,

A battle that turns into duty

 

Everyone is entitled to paint,

Colors of love so alluring,

To claim a reconnection,

But they distort the visage,

They create a vagrant heart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unrestricted nature

The wildness explodes all humble experiences,
It is the absolute heaven on earth,
It is the eroding allure of all hubris,
Hubris that forces all delicate defenses into paralysis,
But among the feral wild I have found my place,

The expectant clouds smile with favor,
In my solitude I can feel all the recovery
My heart daring to gain a new clear vision,
Am not afraid to desire, anticipate and hope once more,
For a new beginning that the murky clouds represent,

I want to feel free and guided like the trees,
That happily surrenders to the gifts of the day,
To feel unrestricted in my transparent and silent quest,
Like the river that is forever in search,
Of all new endless possibilities that lies ahead

At last when I lock my eyes,
I wish to give myself to the peaceful winds,
That holds all the promises of a rest,
In a garden that heaves with a rainbow of flowers,
Like a leaf that had seen the fullness of the sun..

Failure

My imagination is all hope fulfilled,
It is my sensitive way out,
To an illicit rendezvous in the unknown,
To feel inundated, guided and secure

Time to time it feels like a lifetime coming,
To stick to the straight and narrow,
To seize promises my mind’s eye presents,
Of all I need, dream and hope for,

When the world snubs of all things,
My imagination frets and doves,
Rendering me vulnerable,
To a dark world decorated with harsh reminder,

What if failure is just but an illusion?
A constant and unending battle…
A creation by a maze of clever imagination
That only freedom will agree to unchain,
But by those who dare and defy,

Failure has proven its obsolescence,
It seizes to exist by one steeled by the many things,
Things that made one harden and beam again,
Things that force one forget but not quite,