Beloved

What sweet despair, thisMy most beloved secret I long to kiss you ©

Cruelty

In the little dreams I've hadDear Life, I've felt your malicethe touch of your cruel handpoisoning each chosen chalice ©

Grey

Why do the mountains cry so painfully,their wails in moisture laden windsthat beating against the world, in sheetsfall down, as the icy rain…Once more the brown leaves reek of deathonce more remind of when they were greenthere used to be hope and happiness…now, there's only rain

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Making peace

There is a river in mecharting its own courseI only move alongwith its universal forceI don't know where I ambut I know it'll take meThere's always a planfor each divine beingWhy worry about tomorrowwhen I didn't see today comingI must trust that the morrowwill bring more new beginnings

The soul inside the statue

On the pedlar's street, there was a pedestalmade out of funny, crooked stoneupon which, stood a bent man's sculpturehis solemn look quite chilling to the boneThe inscription said he was the first to sellaround those parts, his peddled waresthat he died both hungry and miserableand with a great many caresOne night, as the merchants packed…