What does it mean to break the ordinary
to lift a pen like a chisel against stone,
knowing the first stroke
may draw blood from your own palm
before the marble yields?
The poet stands in rubble,
not as scavenger but as archaeologist of the unspoken,
sifting through what civilization discarded:
rusted prayers,
half-truths wrapped in silk,
the hollow promises fed to hungry mouths.
Here, in the space between collapse and creation,
we learn the grammar of phoenix-speech
how ash becomes ink,
how destruction whispers the blueprints of what endures.
To shatter,
is to reveal the fault lines already etched beneath the surface,
to name the cracks we've learned to ignore.
And so we build:
not monuments to beauty,
but altars to the beautiful refusal,
where truth burns clean,
where words rise like smoke signals from the wreckage,
calling to those who still remember how to see.
The sleepers lie in halls of endless night,
Locked fast in dreams, where memory takes flight
They piece together thoughts from shards of past,
A broken mirror, images that last
The teeth that grind, the words that cut and sting,
Echoes of failures, future sorrows bring
But from the shadows, a defiant call,
"You haven't seen my strength, you haven't seen it all!"
This truth rings out for those who roam and stray,
The rebels, misfits, lost along the way
For scoundrels bold, and those who walk the line,
This is the creed, the truth that will be mine
Confessions whisper, tales of faith betrayed,
By flawed guides, where hollow promises are made—
Imperfect idols, leading souls astray,
But hope remains, to rise and find the day!
I wait for the one who might return someday,
but this "might" deceives me a little more each day,
like a distant song slowly fading in the autumn dusk,
an echo of lost footsteps on the forgotten paths of time.
How long could patience last?
Now I feel that I’ve grown tired of feeding myself with these hollow promises,
like shadows dancing on the walls of an empty room,
where light only sneaks through the cracks of dreams.
If leaving was certain, why leave behind the illusion of staying?
A hope that neither shatters nor comes true,
like a frost flower on the cold window,
melting in the relentless sun of truth.
So yes, I still wait. Perhaps this waiting is nearing its end,
for I am only human, and even I must surrender someday,
like a leaf quietly falling into the river of forgetfulness,
where all the unspoken and lost desires of the heart flow.
Silly ass dame
You Lame plain Jane
Fckng wacked out & insane
Still playin the same game
Even with nothin' to gain
You're the only one to blame
So don't even complain
Sayin you wanna change
But forever stay tha same
Get back in ya in lane!!
Thinkin you so smart
With 3 cells left in ya brain
Dazed out 24/7 from all tha fetty& cocaine
Putting so much faith in hollow promises
That should be taken with a grain
It's like you BEGG for tha pain!!!
Feelin each drop of that acid rain
Burnin through my skin
Down to my skeletal Frame
Tryna act normal & maintain
Ignoring these constant stabbing migraines
Success will never be obtained
Like failure been ingrained
Take every aspect of your life
And rearrange
the past mistakes steady being replayed
Walkin a straight line to Hell
N sht still feel mundane*
I lay down in bed at 9 PM, seeking peace in the darkness that envelops me,
beneath blankets that conceal the burden of a world full of noise and light,
where their laughter and joy intertwine with screams lost in the night,
paper hats flutter in shadows like faded dreams,
cars glide down streets, carrying women and drinkers,
in a procession of fragile hopes and unfulfilled desires,
in the muted roar of time passing mercilessly,
and none of this can dispel the fear that keeps me awake,
for the New Year frightens me with its hollow promises,
and life knows not the rhythm of years, only of moments slipping away,
in an endless dance, an illusion of change,
in a world that counts only the echoes of a single moment.
In this silence, I hear my thoughts flowing like a river of melancholy,
without a shore to embrace them, without an end,
and I wonder where all those years, those moments have gone,
and if tomorrow will bring more than another mirage,
or just another night to hide beneath blankets,
from the sounds that fade but never disappear.
I thought
love was safe,
a place to rest my soul,
but all I found was empty words,
hollow promises that tore me apart.
My heart shattered into pieces,
breaking with every tear
that fell from my
tired eyes.
Alone in
the dark,
I reach,
but nothing
holds me now.
The weight of loss
pulls me further down,
sinking deeper into pain.
Every beat feels like
a heavy thud, echoing
the ache within me.
My heart, once
whole, is now
left broken,
in pieces
and pain,
torn
in
two.
Oh!
Eyes draped in black,
The Scale of Justice, stark and exact,
Struggles with truth and fairness,
In a land where might eclipses righteousness.
Justice delayed, where should we start?
An alchemist’s touch to mend every part.
Government's hollow promises,
Culprits evade without consequences.
Corruption ingrained in every root,
A Herculean task to uproot,
Marks the end of democracy,
And the rise of nation's hypocrisy.
True love is fleeting,
An embrace with meaning
And momentary feelings.
Love is temporarily freeing,
A close conversation
With just simply understanding.
Truth is hard to find
Like truth, love is painful,
Yet through hurting
We thoroughly grow.
Eternal love is a lie,
I only feel alive thru love
When kissed by
One who is spiritually close.
To always love,
Listen and be there,
Are nothing but hollow promises
And transparent words I see and bear.
Truth be that they
Turn into argument
And the eventual loss of their presence.
True love is ephemeral,
An emotion of affection.
When love causes reflection
It is when loneliness is at its best
And resentment at its worst.
The truth of who I am
Has been revealed in experience,
Yet with this love existing,
Realizing my philosophy on love,
I know I can rest solemnly,
Even with thoughts of thee.
The moon rises over the mountain.
Vertigo makes me feel like I may
fall into it.
Thoughts of the day, play in fast
forward.
The things that went wrong, things
that made a sound reach your lips.
Then I saw you standing there.
The feeling, of seeing you there, rescues
from the melancholy.
Moving through the city, like urban shaman.
Knowing the real from those things
that are but hollow promises.
We search for that place of possibilities,
some say australia, others point to
the sky.
Then as we look into each other's eyes,
we find that court of creature comfort.
A place of forests and castles, any place,
that loves' royalty... would call home!
Do we not all deserve the sanctity of a blessed and joyous life?
Instead we carry common wounds from the powerful racial knife-
Are we unworthy of intrinsic, sacred, unconditional love?
Hated for our pigmented flesh that the vultures pray on from above-
Do we truly have a voice, preaching freedom from a concealed cage?
Locked up by self-appointed Gods, driven by power, hatred, and rage-
How many more generations will suffer terror, torture, and tyranny?
Silenced and shackled beasts, while wearily fighting for well-deserved dignity-
Who is stronger in character the vulture or the beast?
Buzzing over lifeless carcasses, in search for the next feast-
Do they see the flood of tears, seeping over the bodies buried 6 feet deep?
Families broken and scarred for life, having to accept unjustified defeat-
Have we cracked the narcissistic ego, fighting for peace and demanding equality?
Boldness is the rebuttal, too proud and conceited to ever acquire humility-
When will the corruption, brutality and cover ups cease from heartless men?
Was this the result of hollow promises, in making America great again?
All these noises
All these voices
How close are we all
To asylum walls
I curse and I cry
I crave and I call
Out to the shallow
To the demons and dreams in my shadow
Make it go away
Make it stay
This is living hell
This is me in a cell
Empty words
Hollow promises
Sickening
Shallow souls
Searching for the same thing
Where does it end
When we're already bent
Broken and numb
You took my sun
When a boy, I was forced to be a man
To large a task, for someone so small
Still when there is love, you do all you can
A minature adult, not very tall
Doing the job, that I was forced to do
To large a task, for someone so small
Happy memories, there were very few
Life was far from easy, trapped in that place
Doing the job that I was forced to do
All of the sadness, I wish I could erase
Won't give me back the days, the childhood lost
Life was far from easy, trapped in that place
You stole my laughter, forced me to pay the cost
All the hollow promises that you made
Won't give me back the days, the childhood lost
Time to forgive, in the ground you are laid
With the hollow promises you made
When a boy I was forced to be a man
still when there is love, you do all you can
Do images of I appear in her thoughts?
Or simply the fostering of quaint fantasies?
Through all pandemonium paramour is sought
Though warded within profound secrecy
Frantic I plea for reprieve
To recover voluminous wounds
Renounce excuse to grieve
Slaughter the walls of this cocoon
'Tis never known where time will guide us
Underneath the sun she soaked hollow promises
Issuing surreal decrees decayed of trust
To romantic encounters she remains a novice
Genuine amour long since faded
Perennial you've become jaded
The year is grey and cold,
And we bid the winter go;
So all the dark and weary world,
Will be purged of blowing snow.
Tomorrow cry the branches,
From out of their sad heart;
My closed buds will open,
With green leaves all apart.
Tomorrow sings the robin,
To pipe her song again;
Her nest filled with eggs,
Warmed in spring's soft rain.
Tomorrow bleats the sheep,
My little lambs will run;
Playing in the meadow,
Beneath the golden sun.
We too wait for tomorrow,
That spring should come to be;
For Him to weave the threads,
Of life's dark destiny.
So all the hearts grown cold,
From life's cruel time and pain;
May bloom all fresh and green,
In Springtime's soft cool rain.
For all the hollow promises,
Of sad and empty years;
Are bringing back to tomorrow's
Joy with no more tears.
What is a heart,
Now that it is open;
Freed of lies which so long
Protected its tenderness.
What is a heart,
Wounded and pierced;
A crippled bird
Crying with fear.
Where is the warrior courage,
Where is the strength
To complete the journey
Of a life.
Pain has been thrown off;
Resistance has been overcome
and cut away.
Suffering has been released;
Small, reassuring measures of the past
No longer sustain.
Old dreams have been set free
Relieved of their hollow promises;
Yet now there is emptiness
And fear.
What is a heart, now that it is open;
Now that days of depression,
And sunken pity,
Have been released.
Where is the saving shield;
Where is the warrior’s courage.
Seek as a child turns to God
For love and compassion:
Shield of salvation.
Seek as a man turns to his Beloved,
For truth and honor:
Shield of courage.
Wear that fine and terrible shield,
Folded about as forgiveness,
Held fast with acceptance,
Radiant with the wisdom of ages.
Let this be a warrior’s courage;
A holy trust.
Let it rise upon wings,
Filling the open heart;
Warrior’s courage,
Face to face with destiny.
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