Soul. Poems

Emotional Buffet 4

The duties are paid, yet restless remain these eyes,
Without my beloved’s sight, in vain remain these eyes.

His radiance softened my roughness away,
Helpless in their watchful pain remain these eyes.

Truth is  no healer holds a cure to impart,
Afflicted with the illness of heart remain these eyes.

I cannot accept that another may see,
Slayers of grief and

Emotional Buffet 2

I sat apart from life, too weary to live,
Even the breath I owed, I refused to give.

The curse of the world is rightful on me,
I thinned the trees, not the flowers to be.

In the end, the mind grows tired of love’s flame,
I made a firefly my partner in name.

Whatever the cause, it stands as a

Body and Soul

Body and Mind give way to the Heart and Soul. 
They let the emotions take over yet remain in control. 
Passion and sentiment now replace logic and reason. 
Interchanging ever so slightly- as if from season to season.

Feelings flow freely, replacing all thought. 
Emotions running wild without fear of being fought. 
The Mind sits back

Mad Prayer of Love

Forgive me , it’s love , I’m falling for you 
My heart can’t disguise
For your sake , I would fight till the skies , with courage aflame 
Through fire I stride .
No fear can conquer , what I feel inside.
They whispers , ‘Such love can never survive’ ,
But what do they know of hearts kept

Listen to the Wind

Shh...
close your eyes to find your peace
listen to the wind and its mystic secrets

The universe the clouds the sun the moon
have their own cosmic language
and who better to translate than the wind

Shh...
close your eyes and stand very still
give it time to harmonize mind heart and soul

Tha 'thela na 'moun English version

I wish I were  one of your breaths, 
So I could flow through your body and fill you up with life
I wish I were a bead of your blood, 
So I could travel through your heart, playful

Oh, to be the moonlight,
So in the nights I could sneak through your window 
or to be the

Tha 'thela na 'moun

Tha 'thela na 'moun mia apo tis anases sou,
wste na rew sto swma sou kai na se gemizw zwh 
Tha 'thela na 'moun mia khlida ap' to aima sou,
gia na mporw na tajideuw sthn kardia sou, zwhrh 

Ax, kai na 'moun to fws you feggariou,
wste tis nyxtes na trypwnw kryfa ap' to parathyro sou
h na

Any soul

If any soul says 
they love you more, know I've loved
You more and longer

In the blue light of screens, the soul is lost in a mechanical dance

In the blue light of screens, the soul is lost in a mechanical dance,
Where thoughts flow like rivers through forests of pixels and silver threads,
In a world where dreams are frozen in frames, with no time for dreaming,
And the mind struggles, like a captive bird, in the virtual cage of silence.
Technology steals our gaze, drawing

SOUL

silent wounds turn stubborn into strength,
over broken earth, courage takes slow root,
under each scar, light relearns the language of living.

Let the Flowers Grow Again Mystic

                                     Let the Flowers Grow Again (Mystic)

            

I'm your love and you're my soul

I am your love 
And you're my soul
They are much adhesive alike 
Making our hearts close 

I heard our heartbeats 
Sounding strong and loud 
They are solidifying the toughness 
In the boiling crowds 

I could be a stream 
You  are of the flow
Together we're wandering in the fields 
Growing love and souls 

I could

Scoured Soul

mind still after shattering storm 
in the scoured soul’s deep rift 
stream of silent sorrow flows
with memory dregs of drowned dreams 
on the dry trail of tears etched  
beneath the forlorn eyes besieged

When the Soul is Lost

In the hollow hours before dawn,
when shadows stretch like grasping hands,
I search through rooms I’ve always known
for something I can’t understand.
The mirror holds a stranger’s face,
familiar yet somehow untrue—
eyes that once held fire and grace
now stare back empty, cold, and blue.
I walk through days like sleepwalking,
my footsteps echo on the ground,
the world around me keeps

The Marathon of Silence

2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 11 Contest //Sponsored by: Mark Toney
( 2nd Place )

Written: August 27, 2025


No trumpet greets the weary stride,
only gravel grinding underfoot,
the breath that rasps against the bone.

I have shouldered storm inside my chest,
their weight pressing like half-done prayers.
The world does not wait for heartbreaks
yet still I walk through its indifference.

The road is

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