Beauty

I see the moon and the sun. 
But both have become one.
 The starry skies are on the face, 
of a beauty with which none can keep pace.
 A smile that causes floods, 
and cleans up all the muds.

 So soft to the touch, 
the wind will blow the cotton back up,
 and it flies, soaring above all.
 Catch a butterfly with a net, but first make it fall
 just a little closer, 
and all you can do is hope for 
a chance to join her. 
To fly with the butterfly, way up there.

The Hunt

In the forest comes near, a hunter, to a deer.
The hunter admires its grace, its beauty, but fears,
That the beauty will flee, as if a girl from a mouse.
Or that she senses him, and feels annoyed, as if the hunter was a louse.

The hunter loves the deer and seeks what he gives in return,
Before he strings his bow and fires past the ferns
To strike the deer, straight through the heart,
And in turn the arrow goes through his own, which will slowly fall apart.

When he sees the deer his heart beats faster
Sweat drips from his palms, as from a spoon, does batter,
And his face begins to turn the color of the sunrise,
Reflecting her beauty, the sun only tries.

But then his throat closes he cringes,
And  every shot, the hunter misses.
Yet it is so beautiful, the deer.
Never getting it, the hunter drops a tear.

Never Enough

I walked to the sea.
There you could find none but me.
I went to a bar.
No glue, no clips, and no tar
Could hold me still.

I ate from wealth.
Taking all the money I could to try to help.
I ate from nature.
Yet even with all the money, foods, and furs,
My appetite would never fill.

I learnt from books.
I read of all the authors and their works.
I learnt from streets.
Yet even with all the knowledge in the world, urban, Roman or Greek,
I still know nothing, and have no skills.

Lost

Lost
Into my home, you, I receive.
But the sparkling eyes and ragged clothes decieve.
I hear your story, and I believe.
Yet it is not the tongue of a preacher but that of a thieve.

My possessions and things I care not to retrieve,
But one lost to me, broken, restrained and not freed
When you left I could do naught but grieve,
For my heart is a soldier that will never be on leave.

Rejection

I feel as if I am an outcast, living in a hell which I can no longer bear. I wish to make better the situation, but as the moment comes all I have is fear. And from my eye would come a tear, if it didn't exile me further from others.
But its as if I'm stuck halfway down a cliff trying to get back up, and the only hope for survival is to leap for a rope hanging down the side, unsure of whether it's fixed or if I'll fall straight to your death. Into a hell worse than the one in which I began.
I'm a blind man in a burning building, and people tell me to jump. A deaf man in a church and I'm trying to sing. A diver that thinks the water is shallow, and a skydiver in the time between pulling the chord and the chute coming out.
A thief that realizes he will be caught. A flower, waiting for the winter to come and end me. A bird before adulthood alone in its nest. I've No hope, no chance, but to spread my wings and jump.