An Orphan’s Obituary


He died as he was born, with nothing to his name
Except the dwindling will to live a life full of the unknown.

Never did they tell him from whence he came,
But still he smiled at the knowledge of who he wasn’t.

A wandering life was lead, a life full of blame,
And yet through it he continually smiled at his fate.

In death, as in life, there were but two to watch his frail frame
As it was lowered into the grey rain-sodden earth.

They were same two he begat who never felt the pain
Of living a life without a name.


Said the Soul to the Heart



Within the murky depths of his Being
The Heart began stirring, awakening to foreign sounds.
“Why do you wake?” the Soul asked of the Heart,
“Sleep peacefully and do not fret, for waking is excruciating for you.”
“I wake to see what moves you, without,” said the Heart
“I want to see, why you are so blesséd and I am laid bare,
Why you sing and I do naught but lie?”


“The reasons are simple,” the Soul swiftly replied,
“I let love find me in the places where you expect it not,
The cold morning air and the warm birdsong.”
“You search for pain and confuse it with Love
You flit to it, hither and thither, like a moth and its desire.
Be still and let it flit to you.”




The Anger & Her Voice

Conversion of St. Paul

Ranting and raving he was drawn into the fire

Crimson flames unfurled around him

The effusive warmth fanned his ire

Yet anger didn’t set him free.

“Look at me” she said, the sound rolling off her tongue

Waves of it cooling his heated blood

Vapours rising as the anger subsided

Cleansing the red  to usher in the blue.

It wasn’t her words, but only her lilt

A melody not of this plane.

The sound transformed his inexorable guilt

Easing his heart as well as his pain.