The JourneyThe Journey Alexander BanoubThe Journey
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, &
QuestionI DamnationQuestion
“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
When the Day's Break EndsMile a walk through haze,When the Day's Break Ends
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?
Good day Blasting guns they burst, I’ve 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 I’m looking for it but it’s so small and I’m blinded by the gold My air is music from their stars, or maybe it’s only music Because I can’t breathe it, I don’t know how to use it Because I don’t think anymore, I’m writing to you The time is still here,Good day
Broken Glass and--Broken glass- stained colours Splattered and shattered on the marble Stained more from- droplets of red Echoes rebound and- Screams rebound and- Laughing rebounds and-Broken Glass and--
The Hollow LifeThe Hollow Life Life is precious Forfend being capricious Wife is atrocious Forfend being egregiousThe Hollow Life
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
SearchingWhy do I feel so unknown, I am someone, am I not?Searching
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.
March 20, 2009
Artistic
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