Yin... Yang... Yearn

An eternity between meetings, 

And an instant of togetherness. 

Periods of no touch, 

With a chain of thoughts about your closeness and dearness, 

Pining for your warmth and tenderness, 

Yearning for those calling arms and luscious lips. 

The quintessential, whole life;

Soul and body fuse in unison, 

With no alpha or omega, 

Where everything is unfathomable and clear. 

My half thirsts for your half, 

Yang awaits Yin,

To combine. Unity.

---

Of Shadows and Light...

So long that I am turned away from light,

I see a spectre, my own shadow - 

My darkness, lying beside something bright,

Like a gloomy, veiled widow.

I turn to the light, my shadow takes flight,

I face the source of my eternal glow.

The shadow exists, but is out of sight,

And stretched ahead of me is a divine meadow.

I turn my sight away from that source,

Shadowy spectres still outline my course,

But when I fix my gaze upon what is right,

Undeterred by shadows, I see light.

---

Mr. Anil Sawan links his composition - Dark Could Signify Life 

Beauty

"Beauty is only skin deep", possibly the most clichéd introduction for such a topic. But anyway, what does it mean to be deemed- beautiful...

I often hear that this or that person is Beauty incarnate, that his/her features are perfect, that they match the golden triangle et cetra... For me, this is not beauty. This kind of beauty is rather a cold, ephemeral one. It is not meant to last.

I believe that beauty is eternal. Whatever happens, no matter what can harm it, nothing, not even time, can destroy it. Someone very famous noted, "A thing of Beauty is joy forever..." A human's beauty cannot be imprisoned in formulae, in theories, because it is out of reach.

Beauty... Even trying to define it is an impossible task. But when you see it, you recognize it immediately. It can be a sparkle in the eye, a way to bend the head, a way to talk that illuminates the face. It can be a way to move the hands, a softness in the voice that makes you stay in place, paralyzed, while you feel like you are flying to heaven, far, far from this world.

It can be a mix too. Few people have that particular gift of beauty. Fewer people see it. But some have at once that sparkle in the eye, that sweet softness in the voice, that tranquille strength that just makes you melt... Some people have this, yes, and even more. This can be combined to actions, that can be imitated, but never created unless you are born that way.

It can be a way to walk, a way to imperceptibly move the hands while talking, a way to kiss- slightly, slowly, and yet powerfully, sending millions of feelings that can only be found in that precious moment; in such a moment, you try as much as possible to feel it, almost swallow every emotion, every atom around, anything that could make this moment last longer (or even, forever!) because you know it just won't.

Features do not create beauty, but beauty creates the features, and it cannot be easily found. When you find it, try not to lose it. For if that person had the gift of Beauty, you had the gift to see it. And every time you will be in contact with that person, you legs will tremble, your hands will shake, you mouth will dry up, and pupils will dilate, and after, when beauty is gone, you will be unable to move, or maybe will you become totally hyper!

You will tell me: This is Love. No. You just need special eyes to see Beauty, and those eyes are given to you by Love. They are more than just, precious.

The Oracle Speaks

The gauntlet is thrown. Who will pick it up?

The hoary ones
Arise and run
In chaos' full eruption,
There exists an evil band
In every land
That delights in destruction!

What seems shapeless,
Formless and faceless
Their great One is releasing!
So to enslave
Both God and knave
Their sorrows thus increasing.

Who is man
To stay the hand
Of those even the Gods can't better?
And a hero yet
Takes the bet
To break the evil's fetter!

Three lights of hope
To help you cope;
One south, in sand and wonder.
One to the east,
Defeat the beast
And tear their plan asunder!

The final light
Will mark the fight
Where you must face your fear.
Leaving the door ajar,
You travel far
And yet, you find it near.

The Fall of the Keeper

Peril awaits the enchanted woods...

A new day breaks; and I-
I wake up to noises in my mind.
"I'm awake!" "I'm awake!"
I say unto myself.

My grove is my dwelling,
And I, am its Keeper.
The Keeper may be ancient,
But the ancients survive.

My steps are small, weary.
But my mind wanders,
Meandering through the wood,
The Keeper stands alert.

An ancient evil has survived,
That needs to be exorcised.
Moonbeams grace upon the guilty
And the innocent alike.

Another day comes to a grinding halt.
My grove stands-
Blessed it is, by the Divine.
And stand it will, for the Keeper watches.

The night falls,
My angst will burn and keep me aware,
By the temple of the Damned,
The Uncleans stand, ready to strike.

And the coil of death wraps around,
For I stand alone, however ready.
The pact of death has been sealed...
But my soul remains, poised to chastise; for Glory!