Monday, 28 October 2013


Have I been deceiving?
Have I been telling,
Everything is alright?

That is for you to decide.

Have I been hurting?
Have I been beating,
To a pulp?

Why don’t you look in the mirror?
Don’t hide.

Have I been cheating?
Have I been lying to?
Have I been harsh on?
Have I been rambling to?
Have I been deceiving?
Telling? Hurting? Beating?

Listen; hush and just

Slow, solitary, solemn, silence.

Who is it you are talking to?

The Silence

“I know who you are”
She said;
Lost in a blinding dream.

“I know who you are”
She wailed;
With no air in her lungs to scream.

“You are the pride, you are the sloth
That has been sent to punish me for living this way.
You are the lust, you are the greed
That has come here to see that I dutifully pay
For my crimes, for my cowardice and for my fear.
You are the glutton, you are the envy
That is here to judge if I am humbly sincere.
You are my own wrath
For leading myself down this foolish path.”

“I know who you are”
She cried;
Her tears impairing her vision.

“I know who you are”
She sobbed;
Sincerely regretting her decision.

And as the darkness took her,
And her pain disappeared into the night
Her senses dulled and crippled,
She uttered with both defeat and defiance:

“I know who you are-

The Silence.”


Trepidation is the protagonist of the narrative
Of this life. Striding confidently down the lonely aisle,
But running from the altar, it is an imperative
Attribute of my character, that sick sense of denial.
I am not left without a want for some form of desire,
Let it be stated that I wish to be elated,
For any other alternative would make me a liar,
A sense of foreboding leaves me alone and undated.
The clouds roll in, the ones I myself brought into being
And I cope, cowering underneath with my head held low,
For there were many, potentially, but now they are fleeing,
My sunshine, my daylight, I watch as they inevitably go.
I suppose then, through it all, in summation:

I am left shivering in the downpour of adoration.