THE HERMIT

Hermit the hunchback old man on the hill,
From dusk until dawn his cottage stands still.
Hermit is out there patrolling the night;
With lantern and staff, he peers with his light.

All nightly creatures know Hermit by name,
He's weighed them all up to see if they're tame.
Flowers and plants that by night brightly bloom -
Under his lamp light are lovingly groomed.

It's during these hours that Hermit can see,
His mind has the power to let things be.
Secrets of daylight he's stored in his mind,
With lantern he peers, all in his good time.

~ Zai Tracea

NOSTALGIA

The children play. The flowers bloom.
Where is the dark, the damp, the gloom?
My eyes now see these things anew.
Is this the place I thought I knew?

This land of golden, shining bliss,
Is different from that dark abyss
That slept down deep inside my mind -
That place where all my demons hide.

Why do the birds now sing with glee?
There is no storm - How can this be?
Are my thoughts so warped with time;
Distorted by the dirt and grime?

Perhaps the thoughts inside my head
All choose, with time, to fill with dread -
But now I've filled my world with light,
And found in that a great delight.

~ C. Spies 

FREETHINKER

A freethinker in times of conformity,
Calmly watches the life energy flow,
Then retreats to its home of pure sanity,
As the cursed crowds slowly grow.

Choosing to embrace their mortality
Than surrender their life to a lie,
The freethinker trades its fresh novelty
To the ruler who's thoughts have run dry.

Alone in their vast singularity
With the whole world overtaken by fear;
They stare at the shackles of normality,
As the flames all begin to draw near.

Burnt at the stake to be punished
For a crime that could never be wrong.
The freethinker may die on this day,
But their thoughts will forever live on.

~ C. Spies

OTALGIA

Screams of pain and anguish 
Drift upon turbulent waters -
Upon oceans of invisible waves
That only my ears can see.

I hear the hysterical laughter of all 
Those tortured by the curse of knowing -
By those who consider the hollow cries
Of a million meaningless lives.

The haunting cries of all the 
Suffering souls in this world -
Amplified by the infinite greed
Of a league of heartless humans.

These tragic vibrations float on 
Into the hidden fortress of my mind;
All of them merely cursed cries 
Of the stumbling humanity.

~ C. Spies 

WRINKLES

On this day I am still young,
But over time I will begin to fade.
Just as the stars must give way to morning light,
I too shall lose myself to the whispers of eternity.

I would rather see my life's joy etched upon my face,
Slowly eroding the ignorance of youth,
Than see the presence of timeless suffering
Stamped across my features.

I fear not the passage of time,
But only the thought of a wasted life.
Give me the scars of a lifetime filled with laughter,
And not a face with the obvious signs of pain.

~ C. Spies

WAVES OF THOUGHT

My muscles are fresh
And my brain is still young,
But my thoughts are
As timeless as the
Waves of the sea.

~ C. Spies

CACODEMON

Liars, Cheats, Thieves, Monsters,
All smiling sweetly to your face,
As they push you down that darkened hole -
Your life and pain now interlaced.

The coward hides behind the monsters -

No less a demon in my eyes.

A parasite is his existence;

The type I cannot but despise.

We stand and watch the monsters fight,
Ashamed of all that we can see.
Why do they seek to live by hate?
How can they still not let you be?

Crawl onwards through that dark abyss

And hope that there is still an end,

For we are always there to help you -

Call us and we will defend.

~ C. Spies 

THE CABIN

Deafened by this sea of silence,
In the aftermath of the storm.
He left the house in a fit of anger,
As the snow first began to swarm. 

The symphony of this house was simply,
Harsh words thrashing to and fro.
The whiskey-clouds that filled the air,
Are all she'd ever really known.

Two days spent in this dreary hole,
With not a shadow to be seen.
The cigars lie there long forgotten -
No fire to spark their hazy dreams.

Winter has gone and Spring is here,
But still the man has not returned.
Could this all be one mighty prologue
To the freedom she has so yearned?

~ C. Spies