poems of a man.

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poems of a man.

Postby zenieth » Sat Aug 29, 2009 6:40 pm

Of Gods and Dice.

Of Gods and dice
I know not a thing

Of Men and war
I know quite a few
Of pain and blood shed and
Make-up all askew,
From tears shed over those
Long since dead.
I truly do wonder who other than
Man can revel in such dread.

Of good and evil
I know they pretend
To be simple things of
Which all begin or end.
But in truth they are merely concepts
Which we use to judge life,
Some may say they bring less certainty
And rather more strife.
What is true good and what is true evil
Not do I know where they belong,
However I do know
The good and evil of this world is determined
By they who are most strong.

Of love and Women
they go hand in hand
For none else can give such pain
As these two demand.
Those that fail, are said to lose their soul
And justly enough,
Some say the reward is not worth the toll
But they who persist, nay they who sustain
The prize they acquire is greater than any worldly gain.

Of Gods and dice
I truly am confound
For none else in this world
Have so many rumours abound.
Men that follow either path
Seek life unrestrained,
But is the loss they give
Heavier than the Gain?
Of these beings
Who never truly fall out of their prime.
Are they masters of us,
Or merely Enigmatic restraints of
Our own design?

Of men and war
Of good and evil
Of love and women
I know a plenty.
But of those beings Called Gods
and those dice so unrefined
Knowledge I haven't any.
Bene Bene Grazie
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Re: poems of a man.

Postby zenieth » Wed Sep 02, 2009 8:16 pm

Dreams of a lover

Like sun light in the morning
You slip through my defense.
A breath so hushed you stir me to wake
No lullaby, no good morning only you do I need.
My soul yearns for your passion, your embrace a
Mere few inches away, though I know, I despise
My love for you is shallow. I try as I might
But thoughts are to perverse, do i wish for you,
For you alone or, your body beyond my grasp?

I say words of beauty, but are they not a facade?
Do I care, do I love, do I show any remorse.
I could say I do, but you know me better, and yet you
Stay, and yet you stay. My eyes they try to pry into that soul
Ever so pure, but i am no more than trickster a con,
I'll never know true love for you, outside of my lust.
So kiss me gently, rock my painful soul to sleep.
For what good is a man who knows not true love?
I am lost, no I am found, for what I truly am, a fiend a
Devil, no good to be seen, and yet you still smile.

You still smile, though I hurt you and toy, I know not why.
You still smile, as if trying to hide those tears behind closed eyes.
So kiss me softly, love me tenderly, for I know not love, but I will
pretend be it reality or merely a false inkling from a dream.
Bene Bene Grazie
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Re: poems of a man.

Postby zenieth » Tue Sep 08, 2009 5:35 pm

Tombs of a sinner

What is that smell?
Is it food? No far to repulsive
Is it hell?
Not close enough to there
Nor can I say was conscious
I'm not certain nor aware.
This feeling, this scent, the ache.
It tugs away at the senses of my mind
Is it for my own good or the for another's sake?
I am a fool, I am the damned
But I live with it all
Is this the celestial's plan?
I try as I might to drive it away from my soul
But no pleasure, no lust, no paradise
Can take away the toll
So I sit and stare blankly at walls and door ajar
My mind is it broken?
Or am i merely attempting to mend unhealed scars
The dementia, the paranoia, the feeling of depraved.
A hand on a trigger long since cocked,
Is this the abyss, am I dismayed?
My guilt beyond retribution
Is this the end of my life, is this how?
The devil whispers so sweetly
Not now, not now.
Bene Bene Grazie
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