Writing poetry in a foreign language is not so easy, so be lenient with my new/old creation. Today it will be introduced to the world for the first time.

A sense of Life

Have you ever seen the world so bright,
so pure, and innocent, and new,
bathing in the first rays' light?
Tell me, oh, my friend, have you?

Have you ever felt the sun so warm,
like your mother's gentle touch;
goldening the after-storm?
Tell me, have you felt that much?

Have you ever smelled the fragrance light
of early-blooming summer flowers - 
giving you such peace of mind,
giving you unearthly powers?

Have you ever known the taste of love
filling you with such devotion - 
sweeter than a sugar dove,
deadlier than any potion?

Have you ever heard the voice of time
whispering of days long-past,
telling you about your crime -
fairy dreams that never last?

And if you have, then you should know
that life is not so gray and pale,
but it's a larger, stronger flow
than any doubt and sadness frail.  



ArDeeBurger Wrote:
Gary Wrote: Unrequited love.

Aww... That's a sweet poem!  😺

Thank you.  Hopefully any work that follows will be less depressing.
Trying to work some things out.  I have about a dozen different stories to put together and inflict upon the world, but life (full time student, wage slave, entrepreneur, husband, and boyfriend) stretches you thin.


I think it's time for a new Bio Poem on my Profile Page! Don't you?

    May my love inspire greatness.
    May your God lift up your heart. 
    May the future glow before you. 
    May we never be apart. 
    May the memory of this moment 
    Live within us evermore. 
    Let me let you take me with you 
    So I may be forever yours. 

I hope every had a very Merry CHristmas, and may the New Year glow before you!
Happy Holidays!  😁


I sought the fire and found the Shouting hounds of hate. Their howls haunted me until I had not much left to give.

Any help that could be offered I'm afraid is now too late. The ashes no longer know how they are to live.

laughter in the mourning, sorrow in the night, broken in the afternoon by others who cry.

The scape of the Shadow-man is nothing but plight, his calling is to make all living things die.

HA! they said to me, the angels of smoke. they knew something of which I was not aware.

Hope comes only after you are broke, after the storm comes the suns brutal glare.

After the lying, the dying, the begging for your life and not getting what you asked.

After the narrow chance you had to ever change the face hiding below the smiling mask.

After the day is over and you feel the hell, the faith is dead and the light as well.

Then to my dismay, my sick stomach got sicker. 
the angel of light turned into the angel of flicker.
then the angel of glow, with one final yawn,
looked brave as it changed to the Angel of Gone.

ANGEL OF GONE:- written by me. 
 thank you for reading.