Enticement

You see something, you think its nice

Thats what you think of every vice.

You sense a vibe that draws you close

An magnetic force so charged, it shows.

You know its wrong but it's a bounty fare,

A forbidden fruit so tempting, you dare.

You've hurt before, but you care none,

It's always too late before you know its done.

Pulling back is something impossible,

What wins, is the hope of the probable.

You're warned again by self an peers,

But more inviting than caution are the tears.

It's not the prize, but the pursuit of it.

Enticement finally becomes habit.

The Wayfarers

I look back sometimes, to see the path i tread on,
To see if i missed a turn, or a patch of grass to lay on.

A twig that i should have picked up, which i snapped in my stead,
A pebble that i ignored, when i should have kicked it instead.

A leaf that i brushed away might have nestled amidst the pages,
The wounded birds that i could have nursed, have now been trapped in cages.

The wayfarers that crossed my path, could have become companions,
The tufts of clouds that sheltered me, now seek far off horizons.

The tree i carved my name onto, to find my way back home,
It withered while it stood in wait, only to perish alone.

I look back sometimes to only see a lot of things undone,
As much i try, i cant go back, i've missed another turn.

Gaya

The armies march, the war path beckons,

Unflinching and desolate, the heart thumping silence.

To find peace they hear the war cries,

Abandoning that, which they fight to preserve.

Approaches the enemy, equaling and staunch,

Fire that rushes and pumping within.

The heavens look down on a future scarlet,

A momentary vaccum before the charge.

A slow and painful redemption.

Hopes and dreams sliced by the blade.

A harmonious dance of doom and revenge,

Slaying the soul, in a shroud of glory.

A panoramic mist of darkness and stench,

An epic of victory and tears to come.

A purpose fulfilled, and battles won.

A lost heart, A wound deep,

More lasting than time.

A spirit mourns of true defeat,

The helpless pulse of earthen slumber.