The Era Of Silent Travelers

So this is now me, the one but only me, the one and only me, and the me who never smiles through sadness
Trudging up this steep hill though seen by others indeed his trek is nothing more than a mere joke-in-progress
Trying desperately to stay stable yet the world around him keeps seeing him not unlike a blur in the crowd
Too late to cry for what's a tear's worth to all around him when respects are measured only by fame and money!

But now all frames have come full circle, thrown down and much shattered like the glass he called his Heart
Too much no more to warm his soul for friendly words or none in particular, this tormented nothing walked out like a ghost
For now and forever I spare no money to charities unheard of but never for once the sun it sings for life
And then this rain it pours for all eternity the sadness out-proportioned and blasted by neither hope nor prayers!

For now it seems the same ensues, but not construed by laughters above I sully my hands for a feast infernal
To win these wings of blackened eagle I will not obey the systems around me, tourette or not it matters to none
But hear me this now for the fears are now over! No more will I be but one and alone, to eke out sympathy likes funerals at sea
For the time has come for me to walk on this street, this city, and this world at large, so bright and pompous like lords of the sun!

SAIF MINTAKA
KL
2011

Songs For No Funerals

To whom do I send these tears, when the night of the soul it garners no strength
Where must I hide this trickery of light, and the deadness of heavens that lay me in fear
And what price the bells of the funeral of nothing, besides the well of dried up notions
When the freaks and the sane they dance in delight, enraptured in tune to the melody of bliss?

Alas I'm but one with no diamond in stretch, to dine in dismay of words strung on swords
Purity enshrined no more but digressed, for things that could be now float in delight
Tonight is right to the left of the morrow, that turns into shadows for life's worthless living
And why am I here for hymns so much lost? Or maybe its time for a-bellowing of dust?

To me I now raise my shovel in disgust, as bearings of the streets they march in no time
But maybe I'm the one who's but in the wrong, to say what is right but comes out too strong?
So tricked of what lies no sense in much scrying, to what then will dawn be rising to greet?
For maybe much sonnets to weave from all haggling, but paid in night terrors oh sing me in grief!

And so for this end I may leave my great lust, to say no more ties but set to much valour
For what use are friends when in death we're but downed? To sing this too true its better to be shut
Than to go on much wandering like the Traveler I'm becoming, in lost for much hope but jobs are the worst
So let me now wander in brightness and in pain, to stop for no more than pennies for my eyes...

THE SIGN OF SHAIRO
KL
2011

For Flowers Of Late

Well, so here I am again, in dead of night, looking for light or maybe some sighs
To soak on nostalgia or pondering my future, God only knows where I'll be to next
A trip worth the mention but never get started, so grand as receptions for funerals to come
In treaty of changes for fame and no fortune, I fly off this mull and trudged up indolence!

But then what of this that makes me so calm, when this damn world did spew nothing but choices?
To what do I owe this mockery of atrocity? So much as in vain for fealty too puzzling?
So this maybe the end or the world keeps on spinning, but stained these last pages my prayers what of it?
To think this too much may intemperance be a ball, for sickness and in health they weave but no time!

And so to this streetsmart I say let's be friends, for hidden back daggers we sway but in dreams
I'm tired of too trying but never to shining, for it's all but whitewash from where I'm now at!
To think that we're too much of grinding and crying, is that what this Fate is that God has been hiding?
For bigheaded bright lions they roar but not gather, or is it just this me that went on too far?

So much so thus questioned but never much answered, is this my own fire or a prison by choice?
Oh God I but fear that the road has been shut, too late to turn back like the candles they melted
Not quick to be learning but leaned on false spirits, I sought not what's wrong but what of this me?
Is this my own dream so dreary in tempest? Or maybe there's no wronging in doing so twosome?

Oh perfection my faction so fractioned but tractioned, I seek to thus sway my own dark strong castle
For egos I will go but not for this tempo, or maybe he's just swining for me to so fire him?
But what of the chaos and confusion I reigned in? Is that just too much for a mere blackshot arrow?
To what do I owe so destructive my world, just so that I could get back at this hymn?

Ah, no answers in sight but still I did spin, this deadly spiked wheel the Roulette of Own Mind
So maybe I did see my insanity now fleshed, so carved on my drink I cast one more die
To nostrumised my mind before they touched heart, in peace and in chaos they'd all looked the same
In stride for one race, a band of dead centres, but still not too afraid! To pray one more time...

SAIF MINTAKA
KL
2011