Saturday, November 29, 2003
This poem is dedicated to those who feel the same way ...
-Seasons-
The source of man's strength both young and old,
is elusive yet abundant, richer than gold.
Love is the key, its power is beyond apprehension,
It heals the past, yet destroys the future in glorious redemption.
The 4 seasons of existence so old,
Reflects this love, which men so dearly hold.
They say the beginning of love is like Spring's warmth touch,
The release of souls from their long wintery march.
Hurt of the past is healed with love,
As perfection seems like a gift from above.
The power of love engulfs at its peak,
For its blooms like flowers from Summer's week.
Eternity of love is promised with a truthful heart,
To live and to love each other till the day we part.
Time soon seeks to test the love of the willing souls which wander,
As commitment seems like a burden to carry forever.
Love blinds all from the excruciating truth of endless hurt and pain,
Of Scars so deeply etched that the soul can never remain sane.
Hope starts to die as feelings change like the wind of Autumn's rage,
It all crumbles, towards the end of another chapter, the turn of another page.
How did it all end? That which seemed so perfect in the beginning?
Like falling leaves are the tears which bleed from the heart never-ending.
Autumn comes swiftly, taking away the bond which time had grown,
Like the bare trees, we are ripped of our beings till no skin or bone.
The long march of Winter has just begun as we experience its piercing chill,
The soul ceases to exists, the heart never again to feel.
The days go on, the years go by, the seasons go on and on,
This is life my friends, this is the pain of those who were gone.
Love will exist whether or not love is wanted,
Love can only be given, it is never created.
The birth of spring,the growth of summer, the fall of autumn and the deadness of winter.
Till thy soul be laid rest in eteral slumber, until the leaves of autumn no longer fall,
Will only then would you wonder, what is the reason for this all?
No one can answer, nor one can really know.
All I still hear is the whisper of the wind and the gentle fall of the snow...
-Marc
28/11/03
-Seasons-
The source of man's strength both young and old,
is elusive yet abundant, richer than gold.
Love is the key, its power is beyond apprehension,
It heals the past, yet destroys the future in glorious redemption.
The 4 seasons of existence so old,
Reflects this love, which men so dearly hold.
They say the beginning of love is like Spring's warmth touch,
The release of souls from their long wintery march.
Hurt of the past is healed with love,
As perfection seems like a gift from above.
The power of love engulfs at its peak,
For its blooms like flowers from Summer's week.
Eternity of love is promised with a truthful heart,
To live and to love each other till the day we part.
Time soon seeks to test the love of the willing souls which wander,
As commitment seems like a burden to carry forever.
Love blinds all from the excruciating truth of endless hurt and pain,
Of Scars so deeply etched that the soul can never remain sane.
Hope starts to die as feelings change like the wind of Autumn's rage,
It all crumbles, towards the end of another chapter, the turn of another page.
How did it all end? That which seemed so perfect in the beginning?
Like falling leaves are the tears which bleed from the heart never-ending.
Autumn comes swiftly, taking away the bond which time had grown,
Like the bare trees, we are ripped of our beings till no skin or bone.
The long march of Winter has just begun as we experience its piercing chill,
The soul ceases to exists, the heart never again to feel.
The days go on, the years go by, the seasons go on and on,
This is life my friends, this is the pain of those who were gone.
Love will exist whether or not love is wanted,
Love can only be given, it is never created.
The birth of spring,the growth of summer, the fall of autumn and the deadness of winter.
Till thy soul be laid rest in eteral slumber, until the leaves of autumn no longer fall,
Will only then would you wonder, what is the reason for this all?
No one can answer, nor one can really know.
All I still hear is the whisper of the wind and the gentle fall of the snow...
-Marc
28/11/03
Marcus "Marzipan" Tan last came on 11/29/2003 01:55:00 AM.