The Single Feather,

We drown ourselves in the illusion,

That we drive our lives,

Lost in our own confusion,

There are always secret knives.

We believe we're so wise,

Blinded by unknown lies,

Our destinies held hostage,

By the forbidding skies.

Though who's to say,

That we can have it our way?

The truth held at bay,

From clueless minds,

The changes so mere,

Only seen when we rewind.

Life is not driven by us,

Though we may think we're the biggest bus,

That destiny lies in our hands.

But if you opened up,

Realize,

We are afraid to admit,

That life was never lead,

By us.

If you had to choose one,

Between two,

Who would you choose?

There really is no lie,

Impossible to deny,

Why, why, why,

Does it always have to end in demise.

Neither is better,

A heart compared to a feather,

Can't I choose all?

Or must one fall?

- I am torn.

I lived a life,

Of solitude,

No dove,

No traps of love,

The sunrise,

A sign of no demise.

I never tracked time,

I was always sublime,

Yet then came fortitude,

Destroying my solitude.

I

Had

No

Choice.

I tried to flee,

My legs tied to the knees,

I couldn’t run fast enough.

So I turned,

No more running,

No more sputtering,

Fortitude replacing solitude,

Barren pain,

Stabbed

Right

Through.

Now my days,

No longer quiet,

A presence,

Waiting,

Peace is gone,

War awaits,

There shall be no silence,

For several years,

Till change is here.

The days when I dream,

The days when I stand,

And stare out the window,

Through the misty fog,

No one in sight,

No car passing by,

Just the keen silence,

And peace overcoming defiance,

No sound,

No one found,

Just the pure rain,

Nourishing the ground.

After the Rain

Maybe we’re just waiting for the hope,

That lingers with the fresh scent of the rain,

But it’s so hard to cope,

With the desolations of ash,

Falling in flurries,

So seamless,

Gentle,

The marking of a new day,

In barren pain.

The rain,

Clear, faint droplets,

That make a resounding splatter,

Soaking the ashen ground,

Like a serenade,

The harmony of the wind,

The whispering leaves,

And the rippling rain,

A song so pure,

So graceful,

That overpower,

The stinging pain.

It seemed so lifeless,

Hopeless,

Useless,

When there was no sound,

Amidst the smokey haze,

Just the Earth in it’s silent stance,

Like time itself was in a trance,

When the first rain,

Hit the ground,

The skies crying out,

Their sorrow,

And the uncertainty of tomorrow.

Then, so strange,

There was a calm yet sudden change,

When the clouds bellowed,

Their last thunder,

And moved on,

The illumination of the sun,

Unseen for so long,

And if you listened,

Ever so carefully,

You could hear the soft singing,

From the birds beyond.

Cloudless Nights

I still remember the days,

When there were no cities,

No lights, no streets,

Silence, no fray,

Just skies,

Of shadows and moons.

I guess it was inevitable,

Yet I couldn’t help but say,

That if you gave me one more day,

I would have never left you here,

Alone, lost in this festering fear,

You don’t need to believe me,

But I tried,

And when I simply couldn’t,

I cried.

I breathe my sighs,

Into the sinking air,

Blinded by lies,

Why is life so unfair?

Now it is the fog of regret,

That hangs over me,

Haunting in its silent breeze,

Taunting our memories,

I try to stifle the tears away,

Though impossible to keep much at bay,

I am sullen,

With hollow pain,

With the yearning,

That you’ll come back to me one day.

I wish we could go back,

To those cloudless nights,

When we could see those stars,

And laugh about our silly flaws,

And cry about our scars still raw,

And fall silent for whatever cause,

I just wished,

We were never so far.

I still remember the days,

When there was a fire in the hearth.

I stood in the forest,

In my solitude,

The swirling breeze,

The only sound,

When I look up,

At the towering trees,

I realize I'm so small,

Compared to the mist,

The bare trace of my silhouette,

Of my warm breath,

There is no knowing,

Beyond this trail.

Fling the snow into the air,

On to the trees who are bare,

Dazzle the skies with a pure white,

Now Winter feels just alright.

Jumping Trout by TheHen

The annual salmon,

The jumping trout,

Who swim upriver,

In and out,

For one can see endeavor,

That seems to take forever,

It sure is not clever,

There could be some way better.

The falling cascade,

Of streaming water,

The power it takes,

To reach the lake,

No, even if the trout jumped higher,

Even with all that desire,

No one can be better,

Than the leading sire.

Day after day,

Despite being eaten away,

The trout jump on,

Without any way,

The seagulls diving in and out,

Though never broken away,

The jumping trout,

Live for the future,

In hopes for anything better.