Virtulove?

Do I trust in a world of sin
that love can be a happening?
I once placed hope beyond the screen
and ended up with ev’rything
that I cared for and I hoped for lost,
with dreams that forced to turn and toss.
I vowed to push lust to a place
and with it, that same screen away.
Now, in days where I can feel
that I am free of sin and devil,
in days where I feel I have won,
I see that same screen once again.
I do not think it is the same,
but there is yet no simple way
for innocence to recognise
the diff’rence ‘tween two sets of eyes.
Can one set truly be those eyes
which I have yearned for, day and night?
Do I trust in a world of sin
that love can be a happening?

Sonnet of Hope

I pace among the masses while my legs keep me from home,
and a cloud of grey descends on a brok’n mans shoulders.
It’s not oft that I am left here standing on my own,
with haunting dreams of ‘wish I could have’ soldiers.
Wish I could, wish I may, wish it would have bin;
wishing that these dreams of mine were gone.
But that is not reality, a world I could have seen,
that is not the truth of my own bones.
I am a brok’n man with a grey and heavy cloud
resting on my brok’n, nothing soul.
And the grey gives truths I know a blanket of doubt,
endless dreams with ever-reaching goals.
__But in that cloud of grey, there will always be some light,
__as true as stars will always light the hopelessness of night.

Sentimental

The waves between two foreign lands
Halt destined love from coming to,
But on those shores where lovers stand
Are hearts that beat with purpose and truth.
For now, they wait with bated breath
Until horizons disappear;
They’d hope for love until their death
When free souls could, at last, be near.
Such a heart is hell to find,
For true love is a miracle,
But when the heart does truly find
Such never, then forever’s real.
__Let men claim heaven is fantasy;
__They’ve never felt what I have seen.

A Smaller Picture of Bigger Things

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
But flowers are nothing
In the sight of you.
They say that absence
Softens the heart,
But never again
Will we be apart;
For the thought of your loss
In this world of ours
Is enough to turn sweetest
Of moments sour.
This is the plight
Of the common at home,
What the warrior fights for

When he is gone…

Wulf Young’s Love

The waves play tag
As they criss-cross by;
A misplaced day
For a playful tide.
A rainbow spouts
In the distant sea,
But as moments pass
The rainbow flees
Beyond the silent
Volcanic giant,
Who watches tides
Fall and rise and
Playing tag
On a winter’s day.
Volcanos, waves
And rainbows play.

Rats and Rainbows

The world is full of wonder,
Extr’ordinary things,
Resounding booms of thunder
And streams of white light’ning.
They shout, “Can you deny
The presence of your God?!”
But in my own flawed mind,
By Nature I am awed.
A name brings prejudice
To ev’ry mind of man.
Forget the words, the benefits
Will halt you where you stand.
The rainbow’d is the brother to the rats of the sky.
Stop reading, turn around, see the beauty in your sight.

The Hunted King of Death

He paves the concrete red
And yet his hands are clean;
The children hurt or dead,
Forgotten for the green.
Unnecessary pain
For unnecessary gain,
But he just hides the stain
Of where the children lay.
This is cowardice
Of the most pathetic kind;
To destroy a wealth of promise?
He cannot be so blind.
He hides like a hunter behind his slew of guns,
But as the guilty hunted, he will always run.