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Follow the Raven

[Chorus]
Come follow me, my dear raven,
I want to share your tears and heaven!
I crave to see the depth in your eyes.
Come follow me, away from dark lies!

Come follow me, my dear raven!
The lonely soul and peaceful alien…
Your voice reflects the scraping metal.
Come follow me, the trails are lethal…

[Verse 1]
The misty morning. Rays shoot thrice, and
My tea of green is full of sun sand.
The deepest part still keeps mixed zinnias,
My spoon that stirs some mint is jingling.

The misty morning, should my head go?
Black feathers rain in four to cot low.
The feathers sound a sinister call
To meander through the marigold shawl.

[Chorus] [Verse 2]
It’s black and white, it is so forlorn.
It’s gray and fresh, albeit so sore, worn,
Or is it empty? Yellow, charcoal,
The raven’s soaring to the downfall.

It’s black and white, as puny drops ooze.
It’s gray…and everything that I lose
Will drown in cavities and forest.
There is no me or raven, worthless…

[Chorus] [Verse 3]
The void engulfs this body tightly.
Beneath the branches, this comes slightly
Chimerical. A wisp smears over…
Delusion’s me. The body is sober.

The void engulfs this body tightly.
Still, let your raven soar up highly!
There is no you, hence none will suffer.
Come follow me, my raven passer…

[Chorus]

Extracts from the Lives: Lantern in my Place

I suffer malady. My body feels like a digested wall.
I crave to drift away. Oh, shall I see again, or fall in toll,
Your smile from the abyssal land? The purity of nonexistence . . .
For me, to be likewise the naught, — and that is who I am, — affluence.
What art will change that nothing? Never there is any sudden reason.
The darkness, there is just a puny lantern in my place of treason.
You grasp the light, albeit not the ghostly cloth, of honesty,
Reflected from the glass and captured as some art photography.

Lantern in my Place II: the Letter

One day, we will not be alive to support our children.
No one, but as second-role heroes, we’ll serve to the offspring.
Predictably fading, we thrive further íf (!) no abortion’s
Afflicted the cycle; in which case, we might rein future feats in —
It never denies that the masses await the Messiah!
Relentless and fruitless, this shan’t fall from lubricous actions.
Perhaps, then the end is much sweeter and is a desire.
Will heroes spread? Ór will virginity cut the connections?

If heroes strut forth sacrilegiously, they become feces.
The future of our dear planet, do not neglect blunders!
Your world is fragíle (grace to us), still and all not in pieces.
A sine qua non is no more for the Iliad thunders:
Your head is an ocean in heaven — don’t leave it all barren.
To guide or advise, people eschew vicious manipulations,
Abuse, or enforcement — majorities feign their kind tenors.
Here you keep the lantern, which aids to behold constellations.