Poetry

The song of stones

In the wasteland, in the valley
Where no streams flow lie the stones
Dust and ashes tell their stories
Tales are told among the bones

Wanderers fear them, demons near them
Speak of cruelties of man
Stones where there when heaven burned down
And the snake-spawned war began

Angels weep each time they see them
They remain when chaos grows
Flowers die, stones are eternal
Silence, hear their music flows

They will see the night and they have seen the dawn
Kings of one place, wearing a solitary crown
In lonelieness they dwell
This place they know so well

Better than a mother knows her child
Better than a lover knows his angel
Better than the devil knows the night

No one loves and knows like masters of one place for eons past

Wanderers fear them, demons near them
Take their counsel for the evil they can do
For the evil that stones see is unsurpassed
Because the hate of man burns bright and ever true

In the wasteland, in the valley
Where no streams flow lie the stones

Dust and ashes sing their sadness
Eons past create their madness

For gods always die alone

Suns will burn us when the time comes
We are nothing but an echo
Our tale ends among the ashes

But our tale is so much sweeter
For it makes a song of life
And we should always remember

Gods reign above flesh and bones

But gods always die alone

Through the darkness and the silence
A plea, a crie

The song of stones

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Poetry

Gates of Peace

It was cold, it was dark
All around there was no star
I was wandering lost and lonely
No hope echoed from afar

Darkness and bitter pain
I was longing for the light
Hope was just a dream, forgotten
And no light of love shone bright

Deep in the night, in the darkness
Came a whisper through the storm
Ray of sunshine through the dark clouds
Mended a heart, shattered, torn

When the night was its darkest
There were lights before my eyes
There were lights of love before my eyes

All the people who love you
All the love that they gave you
Are in times of fear and sorrow
The gates of peace

Smile that shines like a sunray
Came to me, a new found dream
Melodies were now awoken
Stilled the chaos of pain’s stream

Love that’s born from a parting
Wounded heart inspired me
When the stone breaks and the stream flows
Then life’s water sets us free

You showed a path through the mountains
That awoke the singer’s voice
When I longed to follow darkness
You gave me another choice

When the night was its darkest
Came a whisper in the night
Stirred my soul, your voice there in the night
Beauty wounded, beauty healed me
It’s your beauty that has sealed me
With the seal that breaks all suffering

My gate of peace

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Poetry

The Enemy

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The Enemy

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A pyramid, before my eyes
And they have said, that deep inside
A vault of treasures lies

Dangers await in the chambers
Not from traps, but from a hunter
Who is there to guard all treasure
Riches beyond thought and measure

The enemy

Chamber by chamber, but nothing I found
Trapped by a darkness blinding my eyes
For on the walls around

There are mirrors

And on their surface there is me
Just staring, not knowing the way
I wonder, if I dare to stay
Will I find the enemy?

Longer and longer, deeper and deeper
Lost in the confusing paths of the maze
only the mirrors are my loyal companions
But soon I hate their unyielding gaze

Which is just my own
But with each step the mirrors darken my face
Show me pictures of an evil me
Try to lure me into a dark embrace

Days, weeks, months – I lost all perspective
The chambers I see are getting smaller
The mirrors get closer, and so does this shadow
This distorted image with which they taunt me

This is the enemy

No beast, but mirrors transforming
Until light is gone and just darkness is true
All good in your heart is discarded and shattered
As if only all your faults mattered

To the mirrors which try to break you

How I longed to find an exit
But all doors behind me closed
Forcing me in one direction
And still the chambers are getting smaller

I know I’ll soon see the last of them
And then at least it may be over

Weeks have passed and now it’s near
The last lines
All paths have ended
This must be the heart of the maze
Lay me down, surrender
Screaming at the mirrors: I am broken!
Now let me rest…

This is the smallest chamber, the ceiling forms a mirror
Showing me an image of myself so darkened I can barely stand to watch

But then I truly realize what it is I see
an image, dark, but not darkened at all
This image…god I was so wrong!

And now I know my enemy

The tale is true, I found the treasures
And with them the beast who guards this place
I give it my love, I give it my heart
So that it can heal in my longing embrace

Now finally the man within this mirror
Dark as he is, has turned towards the light
I look upon a man that I have never dared to see

And smile

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Poetry

The angel’s crown

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The angel’s crown

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Once an angel who roamed the earth
Saw a demon forge darkness so deep she may drown
And on that day all that made her an angel
Was given a name: The angel’s crown

The crown is her kindness
The crown is devotion
To help man rise above all that is evil
And stand against servants of the devil

And in those days there was a great city
filled with poor people who were suffering
so many enslaved, because some in the middle
Where building a tower towards the heavens

“The power’s in your hands
To tear them down and to destroy
you feel the urge to slaughter a few to save many!
You know how right it is – do not deny!”

The whispers of a demon
Age old role that he’s been given:
Seduction!
But my role is to bring love and kindness!

The thoughts of an angel

And so she draws no breath which is not used to plead for peoples’ freedom
But after the futility of this is obvious
She spends her days and nights with help and healing

Thus she brings kindness and pure love
To people wandering in darkness
Thus she brings light into their lifes
And this worthy goal for which she strives

It is the age old role that she’s been given

The good that’s forged in stories has a tendency for blindness
While the evil that is forged in life
Has a tendency to blind whatever good will there is left within us

The only power evil ever had is knowing the true nature of all things
And that some things we label good
Are just as much illusion as the darkness that we blame for our inability to see…

As the tower rises a shadow is growing
Far away from the slums where she’s healing
Making herself not an angel but queen
But in the end
She sees the shadow – she sees her sin

The love, all the care!
In disbelief she stares
At the fallen mask, lying there in the dust
And suddenly she is aware

That she blinded herself

Looking into the mirror
She sees that a piece of the crown is missing
All beauty is there
all but one, which is being aware:

That the divine wears no crown among man!
Because crowns are the reason why what once was one
Was torn into three:

Evil, human, divine!

She runs to the tower, she pleads with the people
But too late, they can no more understand!
Waves of destruction have left them nothing
Punishment brought by her master’s own hand!

She feels a hand touching her cheeck softly
Comforting warmth of a demon’s embrace
Inviting her to simply surrender
Carving scars of defeat into her sweet face

And now as she sees the city in ruins
Her eyes fill with tears in which heart and soul drown
With trembling hands she removes her treasure
And gives the demon an angel’s crown

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Poetry

The Watchman

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The watchman

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In Sunday school, in churches
In the bible, the holy scriptures
They tell us of evil nature
They tell us of the devil

They say he is cruel and corrupts us
To gain the power that he has desired
That we be his slaves til our last breath expires
Until he must burn in the eternal fires

They say he is a schemer
A master of pain and war
The snake who triggered the first betrayal
Destroying all good men live for

I think those are only legends
Giving us something to see
For the darkness he thrives on and uses against us
Is like the drops in the sea

Always there, the waves do not make that with which they destroy
The ships in the sea and the house on the coast
They use what is given, what always will be

And those on dry land can easily say:
„Do not sail there, the waves may destroy!“

Outside of pain, outside of anger
Judgment traps the ones who are inside
They become like a ship sailing through a dark night

The Devil is a watchman
Guarding a tower of light
A tower which guides ships towards the gates
Behind which there is only night

But if he’s just a guardian then who
Is the lighthouse keeper guiding you?

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Poetry

Last night of the gods

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Last night of the gods

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This is the story, it comes to an end
Creatures of higher and nobler descent
Have left the heavens, hopeless and broken
Have left their children cause gods have arisen

They number billions and their hatred is legion

Now they have left me and names have fallen
Poseidon, Hades, Loki and others
Scattered like leaves in the darkness of stars
All have left because gods have arisen

Whose numbers are billions and whose hatred is legion

Tonight they sing a song to win my grace
Tonight they once again pretend to know their place
But their songs do not blind me, there is no devotion
not to anything but what they want to see

No one has found me of all those who sing
Kingdoms surround me like ashes in the wind
Nightfall embraces all that I am
Last night of the gods who have never seen my pain

Seeking a kingdom, not earned but given
This is their way and this is their downfall
Do you not know me? Do you not listen?
I wanted you to build my kingdom on earth!

The land that was given – a present shattered
The rules to build paradise – broken, forgotten
The dream a man brought you – altered and scattered
Cast to the wind and turned into lies!

Turn to cathedrals and see shadows rising
Swallowing force – come and witness my death!

Panick on the streets, panick in their hearts
Tears of fear and darkness have shattered masquerades
And behind fallen masks there is no hope for redemption
The kingdom you have prayed for will not come – you’re on your own…

No one has found me – and still they sing
Kingdoms fade – there are cries in the wind
Nightfall embraces all that I am

They are the gods and they number billions
they have built cathedrals and bowed in my name
Made me their god, a hope to attain
a crown for eternity, glory for man

But this is their last night and their songs are in vain
Because they have worshipped, but never loved me

And they have never seen my pain

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Poetry

When the masks fall

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When the masks fall

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The theater was silent
The stage was set
A thousand eyes examining its slightest tremble
Made it seem like glowing with anticipation

In a circle all around the stage they sit
Under the starlit sky
A beautiful summer night carries them to a land of dreams
As the actors appear and the play begins

They are moving forward, coming from the south and facing towards the north
In slow motion they crawl
On their hands and their feet and the movement of them all
Seems like the wind trying to move a stone

This goes on for an eternity
Until the audience begins to understand
Nodding in appreciation
Of the metaphor constructed right before their eyes

This is when the actors rise to walk upright

Moving faster, spreading out in all directions
Ever faster, to the point where they are just a blur
And in this storm of understanding and development
All of a sudden many drop like flies
And it seems like others take their energy
To move on even faster

Closer to the audience

At first this is pure fascination
Seeing all those golden masks upon their faces rushing by so closely

But then it happens

In one motion
The actors who are on their feet
Stop, a heartbeat away from the astonished faces watching them –
They look around and see their fallen comrades watch with pleading eyes
Slowly crawling towards them

Watching them fight their way towards the motionless
All of a sudden you can see the difference
As if the masks of those who stand are subtly changing
Some into shining gold
And some into the haunting dark of hell

What followed was a silence forged by terror…

The faces still were not revealed
But those who killed and those who healed
Have turned their masks to shining gold
Or to the end that is foretold

A paradise and tragic land
The theater was split in two
Forming a hive of tear-stained sand
and angels that have seen all truth

The grounds on which the angels tread
Is formed by hands that healed the wounds
The grounds on which the murder feasted
Is held by those who demons led

And outside stands the audience
They’re horrified and filled with joy
They lift their heads up to the stars
And see the two masks smiling back

Cause all the stars that shine up there
Are also cells within this hive
The cell called earth is ours to form
But there are others filled with life

And if we find them will we see
The mask that stares us in the face?
To run away or to embrace
Treading on ground with angels found
Or hoping for a demon’s grace?

The actors rise, all are alive!
A play intense and beautiful
And the applause! A raging storm
A sign of the storms we will form…

The time of the apocalypse?
Or paradise, forever ours?

If it is god or chance or fate
that made the stage on which we play
Who is to know, who is to tell?

Which face we forge with what we do and say…

Decided in a play that’s real
Upon a cosmic summer night
Whatever force creates the cells
Will watch with pity and delight

When the masks fall

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