The Journey
Alexander Banoub
November 25, 2009
However distant I may wonder,
Whichever obscurities I may ponder,
You may take solitude in the knowledge,
that I will not linger in distain.
I will return home, no matter the distances I roam,
With a fortitude of knowledge and understanding.
All though you may notice me strange-
My experiences will fill a page,
and your mind opened once more.
Because I will return home, no matter the distances I roam,
with a fortitude of knowledge and understanding.
Such is my forte,
A hunger that seeks knowledge,
A hunger that seeks understanding.
Such is my devotion,
To understand e
I
Damnation
By my royal decree,
I sentence thee,
to eternal damnation
Said he.
But who is he?
Figure, or idea?
Creation, or Dream?
If created,
Why all the hatred?
Could this being not simply remain in neutrality?
Or is our nature, so crucial?
If imagined?
Why the sadness?
We must remain subservient,
They say...
Why?
II
The Haunted
Thus is the question ,
We seek answered.
Who are we?
The hunted, haunted, pursued, and damned.
Outcast from society,
Simply because of this question Why?.
That runs through our veins.
We seek answer to the unanswered,
Solution, to the im
Mile a walk through haze,
comes a quarter of sunshine.
A year spent in hell,
brings a month of heaven.
While the day's break ends,
and another begins.
I stand in such haze,
While the day's break ends.
They stand in the sunshine,
While the day's break ends.
Who will stand? And where?
When another begins?
Atop the dew covered sod,
amongst the sandy beaches
we live our lives.
For the first time.
I see the light, shining bright,
The sunshine sees me back.
For the first time.
And amongst the gay ,
I see today,
For the first time,
How it feels.
To live.
The Journey
Alexander Banoub
November 25, 2009
However distant I may wonder,
Whichever obscurities I may ponder,
You may take solitude in the knowledge,
that I will not linger in distain.
I will return home, no matter the distances I roam,
With a fortitude of knowledge and understanding.
All though you may notice me strange-
My experiences will fill a page,
and your mind opened once more.
Because I will return home, no matter the distances I roam,
with a fortitude of knowledge and understanding.
Such is my forte,
A hunger that seeks knowledge,
A hunger that seeks understanding.
Such is my devotion,
To understand e
Atop the dew covered sod,
amongst the sandy beaches
we live our lives.
For the first time.
I see the light, shining bright,
The sunshine sees me back.
For the first time.
And amongst the gay ,
I see today,
For the first time,
How it feels.
To live.
Mile a walk through haze,
comes a quarter of sunshine.
A year spent in hell,
brings a month of heaven.
While the day's break ends,
and another begins.
I stand in such haze,
While the day's break ends.
They stand in the sunshine,
While the day's break ends.
Who will stand? And where?
When another begins?
Blasting guns they burst, Ive arrived here first
The sky is red with purple, blue black spots
My legs are trembling on their metaphor of thoughts
As I slip on the planet and fall on another world
Im looking for it but its so small and Im blinded by the gold
My air is music from their stars, or maybe its only music
Because I cant breathe it, I dont know how to use it
Because I dont think anymore, Im writing to you
The time is still here, I have no where to age
The struggles of our parents are silent and cant be traced
For here the silence sleeps, for dr
The Hollow Life
Life is precious
Forfend being capricious
Wife is atrocious
Forfend being egregious
Death is precarious
Pretend being perilous
Faith is fractious
Pretend being predaceous
All I know is I am being pernicious
For the sake of annonating usurious
Why do I feel so unknown,
I am someone,
am I not?
Why do I feel so lost,
drowning in masks,
'til I cannot find my own.
Why do I hide behind these fickle faces,
one for every moment in time,
pieces of mine.
Why can I not find the words,
three little words,
that can open my eyes.
Why can't I show the light,
on the inside,
burning with inititive.
Why can I not find my feet,
stand my ground,
and pick a side.
Why can I not say how I feel,
but hide behind the lines,
metaphors and cliches.
Why do I question myself,
think like a philosipher might,
about things I can't fanthom.
Why do I find myself trapped inside this box,
if
Ah these colours,
how they change,
so fleetingly,
with me for but moments,
changing with the slightest word,
image,
sound.
They scarcely pass through me,
comfort me,
confuse me,
change me.
It truely is an abstract art.
And I've always wondered,
with such violent changing colour,
why we always search for greens and pinks?
What's wrong with peaceful purples,
and mellow yellows,
from time to time.
The world is not always
black and white,
red and blue.
Sometimes someone scribes in gold,
those are sights to see,
memories to cherish.
But perhaps society makes the world
such dismal, basic colours.
To think that someone pain