LORD OF THE SEASONS

There be times
When the petals wither
The sleeky glassy river
Steams all up
To the patched throats of the water pots

There be times
When the sun cannot rage
And the stars are covered in blankets
When the clouds really have nothing to offer
And the desert belches

There be times
When the ink stares helplessly at the snowy sheet
And the chords no longer command the stringed notes
Then the earth stings the seeds to rot
And there be no avian piping sails

There be times
Even when the dawn needs a sip
And the crickets dishonor the reprobate night
That time money cannot buy
And terror gags power 

This be times
To laud the Lord of seasons
Not a time for the noose
It goes around and comes around
Ask the Lord of the seasons

FREELOCK

Just saw it
My eyes now opened
Awaken  with a scroll of a tragic mystery
Armed with a timeless riddle
Of what is not and yet is

The earth from vain urns
Have drunk wine from slashed veins
Of blind warriors for it
Men celebrate it
But will never be

Suddenly I went mad again to think
This realm with no authority
No one looking down from cloud nine
No one to give accounts to
No Lord No Master

That sphere where laws do not exist
Where no one dies
Yet I can kill but no sentence
Where love and hate has no connotation
And my conscience is my slave

Then I peered again into this world
Where am free from my desires
And lusts do not swing me high like a wild chariot
Powered by drugged stallions of selfishness
Red eyed with the burgundy of greed

A world where good is bad
And bad is good
No divine manacles
No cares
No end

Where atheists revel
And death gets drunk every night
And the wind whistles loosed chains
While the earth swallows up boundaries
And the sea takes a stroll beyond the shores

Now am vexed with this scroll to burn
For as the spirits have no shadow
And the beasts no soul
So neither realm exists
It exists only in dusts and ashes
 

IMMORTALS

Only few have outrun death
Only few have refused to be silenced by death
Only few have worked enough to pay him the debt
Not to be confined in the earth's depth

Countless have been gobbled up by the grave
While time has sealed up many in a jiffy
And like the dew in the dawn fades away
At the yawning of the sun so they vanish

These are wounds to the wombs
Cuts to the earth
Those that give birth to scars
And refuse to be healed

But their spirits history to adopt
Their breathing paths records to keep
Their heroics like the aged mountains stand the striving of seasons
While their villainies run the race with time
 
They are dead yet alive
Existing than the living
Their ghosts wear the garb of their deeds
To dance around the eternal narrow memory lane