Before You Die Alone

Put on a face
Choose the one you like
World offers many choices
And you still have a life
See the truths, live the lies
Go fly in the ocean and fish butterflies,
Get a shade for yourself and stare at the sun until it begins to burn within your eyes,
Live now with others or yourself
Run behind the gods,
Live the way you want
Let desires corrupt your spirit
Tomorrow, anyhow, you are going to die alone.
Grab all that you can or want
World offers a lot
Let options betray you,
And if you don’t like something
Let it go,
Wake up to dreams, and behold the nightmares
Go win something or find loss
Let your demons chase you
They will show you who you are
And if you don’t like what you have become,
Go change yourself,
Put on a new face
Go be someone else, or be with someone else
Live, anyhow, you are going to die alone.

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Monk and the pilgrim

A monk sat on a mountain
When a pilgrim arrived
‘Did you find god?’ asked the pilgrim
‘No’ nodded the monk,
“Why?’ questioned the pilgrim
‘I am not looking for him.’ answered the monk,
‘What are doing here then?’ enquired the pilgrim
‘Sitting’ the monk smiled.

Father and the Boy or (Ah ah aah yeah!)

Father, father no, don’t do this to me

Come, come my child, I am your father

Come give it to me,

No, no, father, I am only seven you see

Come, come here, lord’s home is where you should be,

And I am here too!

Come let me thrust some blessing into you,

Ah ah aah yeah! Jerk a little more my boy,

I’m your father after all, don’t be so coy

Aah aah, ah yeah! The father came with a burst of joy,

Don’t tell anyone of the secret blessing

I have bestowed on you, you boy!

And come again when I call

Father asked the child,

The blessed boy bled from the strike of spear

But did come again to father in fear,

And did so until he was fifteen,

For the father had stopped blessing him anymore,

He loved kids below sixteen.

The Fool

The yellow moon in an orange, and the smoke on the streets
He saw the bodies and heard sobs and screams
The dame by the alley, and the widow by the broken window
Rich men’s pride and the naked monk’s wisdom
The mighty facades, and the stink of secrets buried within,
Though neglected these facets of life passed
From the edge of his grave, the fool smiled, as he saw it all.

An unmarried mother, a doped brother
The pretty girl singing requiems,
He saw pointless wars, and sacred propagandas
The fat belly’s of ageing sailors, and the whitening brow of losing fathers,
He saw people who became friends and the strangers who lost themselves to trends,
The breeze sang and waves roared
The stars burned, planets turned, and galaxies shattered themselves off existence, forever
Men and women succumbed to their desirous lives
While, from the edge of his grave, the fool saw it all.

Pretty Marry or ( Spear of Destiny)

Pretty Marry, pretty pretty she was
Failed to meet a good old man,
In the world of woes and bane
Pretty lost she was.

Pretty Pretty Marry
She did all she could
Tried to drown her pain in whiskey
Smoked rings to let out the worry.

Last when I saw her
She was singing a song about love
Her skin showed scratches and punctured veins
Her stained teeth smiled through lips pale.

Her crimson eyes and swollen lids told her story,
And she looked, not like she did before
Pretty Marty’s pretty face
Wasn’t pretty, and her body, had lost its grace.

Pretty Marry pretty poor and pitiful she was
Last time I saw her, she was dead in an alley
Then I was young, today I am aged
Scratched, stained, and punctured, by the spear of destiny.

A Glimpse of Self

I gaze at the mirror everyday
Today I caught a glimpse of myself,
Astonished, I was
To see all that I saw,
The wounds open, and crimson that
I inflicted on myself;
The expressionless patches made up of lies that hide them,
The elevations of my pride alongside the depths of my disgrace;
I saw a child, a boy, a man
When I looked into the mirror today,
Who once was and who will never be
Jaded by technicolour of knowledge, tanned by the heat of love,
I saw tears held back by the vision
And the anger left by submission,
I saw the blackened blisters of guilt
And the scabs on my conscience,
The diminished wrinkles of a smile long forgotten,
The shamefull frowns of deeds rotten;
And a million other substances of existence I witnessed
When I looked in the mirror today,
Amazed I was to see it all and yet, not recognize myself this way.