Darkness closing in at dusk,
Clouds protecting earth from sun’s wrath,
Blood spilt beauty, another one of his prank,
Here lies serenity I’ve failed to see.

Where heaven seems to thrive,
In words and works so close by,
There is this aloof self struggling to get by.
How did life lead me to this dead end drive ?

In struggle, poetry survives,
Where flesh and bones struggle to capture,
Essence unknown and lost in souls.
Maybe there is meaning from all that thee derives.

I resist nevermore to all that occurs,
Cause and effect drive my life,
In motion, I stand still.
Here’s to that new wave, the new year.

That weird feeling of nearing the end,
Where anger and passion shall transcend,
In heaven’s depth and hell’s doors
I shall ascend in glory evermore.

Surely never been devoid of wealth,
Self stricken and destroyed one’s own health,
The feelings one loves, of buzz and booze,
Where will these high hopes be buried to be exhumed.

Another feeling, craziness tantalizing
Deliberate destruction in pain of losing one’s own.
Here I am right now but where am I really ?
Now.

A face, like from a sculpture,
Long ago in a nearby land ;
An expression that has no suture,
And never fades away like words in a beach sand.

The enchanted beauty with a fiery expression,
The silent kill without any satisfaction.
What should one give to feel this pure ?
In 25 years of a life obscure.

In search of purity, I roamed
And here lies the mother of all serenity.
Passion, anger and the sublime will
To survive, and give the ingnorant Hell.

When the sun drops into the deepest ocean,
Shroud of darkness takes over.
Ignorance, clouds even wise men,
Leaving frail that which is precious among many things.

In ways of the complex world,
Tapping into the expanse of knowledge,
Leads no where, except chaos and agony.
Where doth the balance lie in this irony ?

This split persona, the thinker and the drunkard,
Where hath thee led me to, in search of truth ?
This half knowledge tortures me in sleep,
Will this prevail until His body is buried 6 feet deep ?

“Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun
Along the long road and on down the causeway
Do they still meet there by the cut
There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground
To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide
At a higher altitude with flag unf#urled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

****

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There’s a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
go down this road we’ve been so many times

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river

Forever and ever”

— Floyd

There are so many things that feels absolutely right about this song. This is one of those things that gets me right back on my feet no matter how elated or depressed i feel.

This is something that has touched me so deep,
I cannot escape the inevitability of the meaning of the song.
Why ? You ask. Cant you see the beauty unravelled ?
Doth not need to fly in the sky to decipher
Such simplistic meaning of Life, even in obvious delusion.

I saw this video just now and felt like writing something …

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Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

–Dylan Thomas

Beautiful !

In life, the beauty of survival,
Reveals hidden truth in gentle end.
The sublime will, conveys meaning surreal,
Rejoice and celebrate with tears of joy.

Blessed is he, who has found his work;
Let him as for no other blessedness.

In truth, wishes restricted
Aspiration drives life towards its end.
Divinity in essence
Isn’t it this life personified ?

One action after the next;
The steps in the final stone.
This completion, midway, with a degree
Validates partial fulfillment of the work.

One task complete, another remains.