Poem from my book

This is a poem from my book, The Curious Case of the Blossoming Clouds. This poem, like most that I write are abstract in nature with clear messages.

The Depths of the Color Blue

 

While the young and old

May be different in many ways,

With the young being bold

And the old becoming gray,

Each has ways they benefit,

And ways they falter.

Both are like bodies of water;

The young being a rapid,

 Fast and destructive, but becomes confused and falters

When faced by a lake that is placid.

The rapid is shallow,

With little history beneath,

While the lake is mellow

With plenty of history in its depths.

The history beneath the deep blue

Offers wisdom to the world,

Willing to offer the rapids a clue

To life and to help mold

That rapid into a future lake.

The lake has gone through life

In various phases, willing to make

Changes to themselves because of the strife

They have suffered. Yet they mustered,

And managed to live through hardships

Presented by life, sometimes flustered,

But never losing their grips.

The rapids have much to learn,

Their decisions are fast, without thought,

Unafraid of the consequential burn

That accompanies their lust.

Their lust for becoming more

Often sends them to a dead end;

The rapid can no longer grow

And becomes dead.

If the rapid follows nature’s course,

That rapid will transform into more,

A placid being with force.

Time is the ultimate foe,

It sends the waves of transformation

Into the lakes and rapids,

As they are powerful creations

That eventually succumb to the acids

That time has made.

The ocean is where all of history lies.

 

How the World is Today

Often times we meet those who are hollow and empty, who follow the norm instead of following the forgotten trail. Instead of opening their eyes to the world and seeing the wonders that are held, majority of society has decided to keep their eyes sewn shut.

 

Purgatorial Society

 

It is simple to see with blind eyes,

Eyes that belong to a hollow and empty heart;

It is easy to go where darkness glows,

But the true light is invisible from the blind

Souls that wander in reality, this purgatorial society.

 

The Problem of Colors

Once again, more riots have begun and people attempt to disguise them as protests. People do not listen to the facts. Assumptions are made and balances are disrupted. Fights break out and more lives are lost. Loss is an upsetting fact of life, but a necessary one. Once colors are mentioned, people immediately decide without any knowledge. However, this is not a matter of colors, it is a matter of humanity and judgement, of human to human violence. The soul of humanity keeps being destroyed as hate continues to fester. The longer that this continues the more eroded that the definition of humanity fades away.

 

The Problem of Colors

 

Once a balance of colors is lost,

Harm comes to fall on most

Of society, victims of being

Between the violence, seeing

The horrors that color brings,

Making the Reaper gleefully sing

As he collects and sends souls

Down into hell’s holes.

As hatred festers and brews

It seems to be simply amused

By the colors that damage all of humanity,

A society of damnation as all are at fault,

No one group can be blamed in entirety,

For the color spectrum is all to blame.

 

The Lost Delicate

The Lost Delicate: a poem about I have no clue because this is just something random that I will be doing in less than 10 minutes.

A soft and innocent treasure

Was left alone and unsure

About life; naive and sweet,

With eyes of pure hope.

There was no preparation

For the unforgivable damnation

That followed the innocent child

Into a awful and wild

World. Bright eyes and large hearts

Get damaged in a world full

Of empty souls and demon eyes.

 

It actually only took 5 minutes to write this full poem.