Pentagram and Wing

The pen has fallen silent

Once again, why has it fallen?

Dear god, the light is so violent

On a heart from misery stolen.

Has vacuum kept away the sound

Of the poetry-singing ghosts?

Has it really locked them underground?

Or has it covered the sound at most?

And if this is a vacuum truly

Then why are the words burning high?

Why have the birds of heaven newly

Replaced the bats of the night sky?

And their songs I can hear

Ever more clear, ever more serene,

So unfamiliar, And the tantalizing fear,

A phantom lurking in the shadows unseen.

Still his shade falls on me when I'm alone

and It makes my thin skin crawl,

Sitting on a mighty freshly new throne

It's up to me to prevent an entire empire's fall.

Enter, the only welcomed warming sound,

That matters when I'm drenched in doubt,

Love, your way home, you have found

I wonder if you'll ever want to find your way out?

Your voice is hope that shines ,

In the clanking sounds of fears,

And it goes right through my spine,

To guide me to where all strength appears.

So will you hold up with me our empire?

Will you send my doubt to the bottom of the ocean?

Do you understand my singing, my desire,

The dreams, the passion always set in motion?

I'm living on a land between a shining pentagram

and a rusty angel's wing

Between all the crashing waves of bliss and damn

Where do I get the courage to sing?

We live in a world where the questions are many,

and the answers are rather few,

In our faith and love we find our plenty,

But plenty is nothing if not for you.

The pen might fall, but the soul does not,

The pen might sleep, But I live on

My soul is too alive to rot,

And I can see the signs of the first dawn.

My Tied Tongue

I don't have anything to give

Except myself, so please forgive

My fleeting words and tied tongue,

Trapped in the narrow paths of my lung,

The roads of faithlessness unfolded,

In the vast meadows of my mind molded,

Dispersing and merging over the years,

Into a maze of endless hopes and fears,

And tears and blood and laughs and skies

That cover the dreams behind my eyes,

My heart fought ruthlessly throughout time,

To shed on the grey a light sublime

Enough to end the silence of my war,

That broke out years and years before,

Enough to stab the plague in the heart,

And revive my faith to its early start,

Where art and love and death are one,

And life was a painting that I had just begun,

On a canvas spreading and white as snow,

With my soul a palate with a spectrum's glow,

And the flow of things dart across and shine,

A sharpened spear in a perfect line,

On its tail the flame made immortal by winds,

A passion fueling it by a strength that transcends

The seen to the power of the great unseen

To the mystery of the unknown,

To all the misery of the world outgrown,

And the stone of the cage melts and drowns,

The heart bows and the king it crowns,

The roads of faithlessness fold back

On themselves and then thrown into black,

To clear the spirit for paths anew,

Truth is simple and my love is true,

Let the mazes serve to find my truth,

Let the old paths serve to revive my youth,

Let the hand hold what the soul imagined,

Let all the fear of the past and the hopes cherished

For the future, dissolve in the present,

And let me relish in a warmth pleasant,

May the world find peace at the doors of my mind

May I deliver my heart sealed and signed,

To grant at least one other soul what it deserves,

And cater to him until my last thriving nerve.