Your world is filled with doubting letters,

They build the poems that you seek

To be your soul, blushing unique,

In pictures dark, one candle matters.

Your mind, an altar of white marble:

The angel carves black thoughts in it.

By nonsense - demons will outwit

With sensuality so subtle...

And you are dancing, silent dreaming,

Of every whisper sounding right.

A last message, to my delight:

The reader lost defines the meaning.

© 2010 Lith Ium

Monday, May 31, 2010

The Face of Happiness

Happiness is a sound, beyond music and reason,
Beyond words, so numb, - it is like a season
Of a bipolar being, swinging on waves
Of shadows and lights, within caves.

Happiness is a demon, I hate it, I admit.
And often I dream on, trying to outwit
It's web of lies and delusion and sound,
Thus I run away and hope not to be found.

Happiness has a face with round, empty eyes,
And with its bodyless body, it floats above skies,
Like a kite crawling and stealing the light,
From the sun. And you're left with the night.

Happiness is confusion with a hypnotic stare,
It is like the fusion of an abstract affair
With the concrete of thought - or of sin,
It is scary, it's terror and darkness within!


© 2010 Lith Ium

Saturday, May 8, 2010