Dorian Gray/The Map

How heavy you’ve become,

My eyelids!

How small and pale you look,

My lips!

/

How many branches

Have the wrinkles

Upon this tree

Of memories!

/

How many deaths

Have closed these eyes and

How many times

This skin has been reborn!

/

How many lives,

In one assembled,

Make up the face

I call my own!

/

I look at it –

How I abhor it:

The greed it stands for,

The impatience!

/

I look at it –

And I rejoice to

See painted on it

Love, forgiveness, grace;

/

One thing is certain –

There’s no room for

Another route

Upon this busy map;

/

The only place

That it can lead to

Is but another

Hellish maze;

/

I’ll rip that map

To puzzle pieces;

And draw a new one

In its place;

/

All I have been

And all I’ve cherished

I must let go of

And replace;

/

Beyond regret,

In a chest of treasures,

I’ll keep

The puzzle of the past;

/

And none will see

The real face of

Dorian Grey

Until he dies

Where Do You Want Me To Take You?

Where do you want me
To take you,
You, whom I’d been
For so long;
/
You, whom I killed
Without thinking?
You felt so fragile,
And small…
/
Where do you wish me
To bury
All things you cherished
And loved?
/
Where should I
Secretly carry
Your ashes, still thickening,
Clouding my blood?
/
You were courageous
And gentle,
While I am ruthless
And vain;
/
Of us two, you were the truth
And the wisdom –
I merely feed off
Of your name;
/
Where would you choose me
To dig you
The deepest and coldest
Of graves?
/
Make it a place even I
Won’t remember;
Make it so that I forget
You are me

Wonderland

A life in ruin,

With every founding brick

Crushed into crimson dust,

Again;

/

To start anew, where

In this frigid, barren land

Do I begin to look for

The strength?

/

Under the moon I

See but pale ghosts

Of what has been,

And miss

/

The things I loved

And thought I knew, but

It seems now like they never

Did exist

/

Under the sun I

See only silver whirlwinds

Of rising dust, and breathe

Them in:

/

I was the one,

Out of whose mind they have escaped,

And so to hide them in my chest

I shouldn’t fear

/

Under the spring rain

I’ll kneel and slowly wash myself

Of everything I used to dream of

And dread

/

So when the skies

Are clear, I can begin to build

Another beautiful but fragile

Wonderland

Count to Nine

Don’t close your eyes – you’ll never wake up,

Don’t drop your head, don’t let your knees bend

Under the weight of what has been done

To you, nor of the guilt for the harm you did;

/

Wait! Do not fall asleep on me now!

There may be something out there that will

Yet touch your heart – perhaps, another wild dream

For which you’ll need your strength, love and grit;

/

Do not let go, although you’re so are tired!

Chase out the ghost of death from your eyes!

I dare you to survive in spite of all,

I know you’re all but gone… Turn around!

/

Fight for yourself, like I know you can!

No, not because you want to but just

Because it is your nature – you must,

Until you’re swallowed by the hungry ground

/

I will not judge when you learn to walk

Again; I will not look when you have to cry,

You know you have been given nine lives:

Nine agonizing births, and nine deaths,

/

So count to nine, and rise one more time

A Million Deaths

There is nothing to fear
But my self;
There is nothing to loose
But its chains;
/
There’s no power
I haven’t possessed;
There’s no weakness
I haven’t made mine;
/
There’s no bed, where I can
Rest and sleep –
I’ve been a toy of dreams,
Wild and vain,
/
All my life, all my
Million lives;
And a million of deaths,
Which I died,
/
Never taught me
That I couldn’t keep
Anything; that I would
Become rain,
/
Rain,
That’s naught
But the new life
Of clouds

‘Clouds are the past life of rain’
Thich Nhat Hanh, Understanding our Mind