Whim of Gentle Execution

I’m waiting on a highway of grief

For my life to peaceful demise

Trying to climb regret’s cliff

Where fatal fate will rise

My ego will fly after flay

To and fro between heaven and hell

Psyche has this indelible fey

Only my soul knows this foretell

ButMy heart is willing an exercitation

For the whim of gentle execution.

The Unseen Page

In the vast eternity of silence

Your eyes are searching for the heart

That can listen to your heartbeat

And pulls your love loaded cart

That leads you to a sedate place

Tumbled into the sea of love

Where no other word can be heard

And love pours down from the sky above.
Though I’ve read your eyes so well,

The last page is still covered with confusion

Among the crowd of young hearts

Is it my heart that ends your conversion?

Winter

It’s winter

And I’m addicted

To the Sun,

And the infinitive eternal

Blue canvas

With white spots.

Even the gentle breeze

Feels like hailstorm

It makes me shiver

I embrace myself

With my hands.

Dusty road

That I walk along

Withers my lips

And blurs my eyes.

The morning fog

Plays trick on me

I hear people

At a distance

But I can’t see them.
Winter is solitary

But never lonely.

IMPEARILISM

I give them guns for free

And sell bullets at high prices.

A trigger is pulled.

A man is dead.

His wife collapses.

Their children scream.

Revenge is born.

I condemn the violence.

I express solidarity with peace.
I give them guns for free

And sell bullets at high prices.

Another trigger is pulled.

The history repeats.

I condemn the violence.

I express solidarity with peace.
I give them guns for free

And sell bullets at high prices. . .