Sprout

Born from no seed

Grown on wasted lands

Shall you, jolly sprout,

be a tree on my domain?

Instead

I lost my belief
To such a degree
That if you'd come to exist
The life before you
would have to disappear

Eclipse

I know not what lies beneath
such wasted soil,
But on the surface
the sun shines at its brightest.

{­ ­ ­ ­ }

It starts with a spark
A small, tiny spark
A particle of pure light
that grows very bright
And it shines
and sparks its shining light
and brights even brighter

until it becomes a flame
a core of pure fire
and then passion
and desire
The flame blazes

And grows stronger!
     and bigger!
          hotter!
               brighter!
And it glimmers!
     and it glimpses!
          and it's bigger!
               and it glows!

All that might of a burning sight!
All that strength of a flaming light!
The brightest light that once could shine
shows its greatness in the skies

And then it BURSTS
into the utmost glorious night!

.....
....
...

And then it's over.

And in a heavenly sight
of a sad teary eye
All that lasts
is the emptiness of a life
A full spectrum of colors
blend into the infinity of an empty cry.

Empty words in an empty world
Empty promises to an empty soul
Empty smiles to an empty face
Ornated by empty pearls of light
Empty sighs reverberate in the space
Days go by at a slowish pace

The brightest light that once could shine
Shone its light, but had to die.