A First World Problem

Surround sound and polished waves

Keep reality from the crazy raving

Fantasy that we all fall for;

Us white sheep herded through the doors

Into a promised neverland

Where hope and love could never land

For fear of pop contaminants.

Such is the life us blessed are in.

Virtulove?

Do I trust in a world of sin
that love can be a happening?
I once placed hope beyond the screen
and ended up with ev’rything
that I cared for and I hoped for lost,
with dreams that forced to turn and toss.
I vowed to push lust to a place
and with it, that same screen away.
Now, in days where I can feel
that I am free of sin and devil,
in days where I feel I have won,
I see that same screen once again.
I do not think it is the same,
but there is yet no simple way
for innocence to recognise 
the diff’rence ‘tween two sets of eyes.
Can one set truly be those eyes
which I have yearned for, day and night?
Do I trust in a world of sin
that love can be a happening?

Sonnet of Hope

I pace among the masses while my legs keep me from home,

and a cloud of grey descends on a brok'n mans shoulders. 

It's not oft that I am left here standing on my own,

with haunting dreams of 'wish I could have' soldiers. 

Wish I could, wish I may, wish it would have bin;

wishing that these dreams of mine were gone. 

But that is not reality, a world I could have seen,

that is not the truth of my own bones. 

I am a brok'n man with a grey and heavy cloud

resting on my brok'n, nothing soul. 

And the grey gives truths I know a blanket of doubt,

endless dreams with ever-reaching goals. 

But in that cloud of grey, there will always be some light,

as true as stars will always light the hopelessness of night.

Sentimental

The waves between two foreign lands

Halt destined love from coming to,

But on those shores where lovers stand

Are hearts that beat with purpose and truth.

For now, they wait with bated breath

Until horizons disappear;

They’d hope for love until their death

When free souls could, at last, be near.

Such a heart is hell to find,

For true love is a miracle,

But when the heart does truly find

Such never, then forever’s real.

    Let men claim heaven is fantasy;

    They’ve never felt what I have seen.

A Smaller Picture of Bigger Things

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

But flowers are nothing

In the sight of you.

They say that absence

Softens the heart,

But never again

Will we be apart;

For the thought of your loss

In this world of ours

Is enough to turn sweetest

Of moments sour.

This is the plight

Of the common at home,

What the warrior fights for

When he is gone…

Wulf Young's Love

The waves play tag

As they criss-cross by;

A misplaced day

For a playful tide. 

A rainbow spouts

In the distant sea, 

But as moments pass

The rainbow flees

Beyond the silent

Volcanic giant,

Who watches tides

Fall and rise and 

Playing tag

On a winter's day. 

Volcanos, waves 

And rainbows play.

Almost Princess

My mind is clear,

Or at least enough to know

That today's hope of sun

Is tomorrow's promise of snow. 

But I need a hand

To reach out to me,

Even if it's a hand

Only I see. 

Because all that I'll love

Will be memories soon,

A moment faster than

Timeless noon. 

For now, she is my hope,

She is my dream

Until she is all or

Gone for reality.