The Dark Behind a Star

As we gaze above the evening sky and fill our eyes with light,
the twinkling jewels above our heads shine with all their might.
Glistening, gleaming, glittering stars so aptly they're adored,
for every night they give their light of which we've all implored.

Men and women all have loved these treasures in the sky,
Both meek and mighty all around have had their souls to sigh.
The rich and poor, the young and old- their hearts they have surrendered,
for the gentle radiance of a star is more than just remembered.

Poets, singers and tale-spinners have all their words to say,
while desert-dwellers and seafarers all have found their way.
Artists try in vain to paint the beauty of a star,
while Philosophers fail to explain the wonders that they are.

But of all the souls that worship them, there is one above the rest,
who quietly stands unseen, unheard and remains untouched at best.
There is one for every star that brings our evening light,
one who's barely noticed yet is always in plain sight.

For when a star is troubled, cold or lonesome up above,
its unseen champion is always there to embrace it with its love.
And when the star's hurt is all but chased away,
it's ardent guardian will be thanked yet hidden it will stay.

Much like a song that remains unsung or a story left untold,
these enigmatic ones will always long for the stars they want to hold.
Heartsick in their longing yet certain of their love,
forever in a secret dance with the stars up above.

Finding fulfillment in their emptiness and solace beyond sight,
how exalted and yet harrowing is their chosen plight.
So close they seem to linger and yet they are so far.
Now you know the love and fate of the dark behind a star.

To Wake the Demons in Me

At a time I was quieted, and my thoughts still bore a semblance of sanity. I went about my days and nights just as I did the days before: Doing my best to learn what I could, putting my all into my labors of love and toiling in quiet shame for the blackness which coveted my soul. I did not know you or even care to notice your envy and hatred; you who's appetite for gold and power consumed thee. I did not desire a battle or war. I did not seek the strife which you gave birth to, the strife which ended only in broken lives and hearts. But there you were! You watched me and my loved ones. You stalked me and the source of my happiness. You schemed and plotted against me. You wished to end me.

But heaven was not so cruel this time, for it warned me of your plan. I caught you while you hunted me, and you knew your prey was wiser. I disappeared from my dwelling and I faded into the streets. I evaded you, I bested you, I angered you. For days I hid from your eyes. For days I silenced my steps. For I feared what destruction you had in store for me. I feared the pain you would inflict upon me. I feared what I did not know. So I hid and hid well. But little did I know that as I searched for the answers to why you sought my demise, you were already conspiring to draw me out. Yet I drew you out first and cornered you. I was to question you and perhaps form a pact of peace or even just an unsteady treaty at best. But you would have none of my words, none of my pleadings. You fought hard as did I but I was a step ahead, 5 days more afraid and a heartbeat faster. And at that I sent you back to your maker.

As I searched your belongings I came across your plans, and my eyes were open to the greater more frightening truth. It became clear to me that I had only slain one of the eight hydra's heads, the hydra that was yourself. I saw your plots which were now scattered papers and images on the floor, or dark words and sights captured within glowing screens. You had planned to harm my loves, to wrest them from my embrace and extinguish them. All to draw me out. All to find me. All to end me.
It took but a moment between my inhale and exhale for my fear and doubt to change into anger and resolve. And before I had swallowed the blood inside my mouth, I too desired to end thee and all of thee.

So I gathered myself and my tools of battle. And though I shook with rage as my temper washed over me like boiling water, I slowly planned my actions and had sown my deceit through the guise of your severed head. I visited my loves and bid my secret goodbyes. Then I began my sojourn towards your domain alone, with only thoughts of what could become of me and that which I protected haunting me. The closer I inched towards you the closer my soul was to oblivion. My heart and my mind cried out in unison: "This suffering will be a small price to pay for the safeguarding of our treasures! Rend them, tear them, crush them, end them!" and then I knew that the wounds I would inflict upon my soul would scar it for eternity. And the moment I had arrived and found you, stalked you, watched you; the moment where I, your prey, bared his fangs- I knew that on the night to follow your blood would stain my hands, your muffled cries of death would fill my ears, the dulling of your eyes would be etched in my memories, the tears of your loved ones would wash over my head and their curses I would tread upon all the days of my life. "A small price to pay" said my heart, "a meager fee to surrender" said my mind. No longer did I give myself thought or care, even if it was my destruction that would ensure the protection of my beloved treasures then so be it! My teeth are bared, my eyes reflecting only the red darkness to come and my lungs full only of the darkness which I so readily inhaled. You should have known better, ye of many heads. You should have been wiser, you who wanted to slay me- But nay, you were neither. Thus, too late did you discover that all it took to seal your fate was to wake the demons in me.

Raison D'etre

More than once upon a time this story will be told,
A story that will speak of both the newest and old.
For few things are more immortal than the passions of the soul,
Fewer things so meaningful which make our spirits whole.

I speak of the driving force behind your every deed,
The callings that we answer to, the callings that we heed.
These things that we seek, things greater than we are,
They call to us so crystal clear, no matter near or far.

These things are the feelings that bleed out from our hearts,
These things are the thoughts and dreams where all our action starts,
These are all the things which we say and do,
The things which make the "I" and the things that make the "You".

You cannot take these things away,
or imprison them in stone.
For these things are what makes us real,
these things are ours and ours alone.

You cannot tell a thinker not to think,
or a dreamer not to dream.
You cannot stop a singer's song,
or schemer's pretty scheme.
You cannot tell a lover not to love,
or a fighter not to fight.
You cannot deny a justicar his power to do right.
You cannot tell a dancer not to move or sway,
You cannot tell a bard of note not to sing and play.
You cannot tell a reader not to read,
or a writer not to write.
You cannot tell a painter not to paint,
or a seer to seal her sight.

What drives you now? What makes you whole?
What makes you real? What speaks your soul?
Take it in and breathe it out,
whatever it may be.
You will no longer fear or doubt,
I think you will agree.

A Most Peculiar Thing

I don't really know where it came from, this strange yet familiar thing. I am not certain how it came to me or why it had "chosen" to arrive at the moment it did. All I remember was it was as quiet as a mouse yet as subtle as a jackhammer. It surely caught me unawares then came at me from behind and blindsided me, yet somehow it struck me squarely in the chest. It had hit me so hard it could have easily broken every bone in my body yet it didn't, instead I felt quite good. Now it floats around me at all times like the moon revolves around our earth, like a bee buzzes around a flower or a melody around a lute. I can't see it yet I can feel it, I can feel it yet I cannot touch it, I cannot touch it yet I can shape and mold it. There are times I wonder if this thing is made out of air or stone; At times it is so gentle with me that I am lulled into a state of languid euphoria, But at times it is so rough with me I can hardly stand the fact that it's always around. This odd thing makes me so restless yet it puts me to sleep. This thing makes me so hungry but I never feel like eating. It screams at me when all is silent and yet when the world is too noisy I long to listen to it's soft whisperings. It calls out to me from far far away yet I know for a fact that it is very close to me. This queer thing distracts me so much yet somehow it helps me focus, it throws me off balance yet it centers me. Though it makes my hands shake and tremble, it steadies me. It makes me want to speak of so many things yet when I feel the urge to do so I grow silent, and though it brings to mind a torrent of words it is impossible to describe. It is so confusing that I fear my mind will soon break and shatter into countless fragments yet despite all this confusion, I become sure of so many things. And lastly, but not finally, I know this thing is mine yet I do not own it. And though I am starting to understand what it is, what it does and how it works- the only thing I am truly convinced of is this: It is and will always remain A MOST PECULIAR THING.

My Lament to the Stars

My Lament to the Stars

Damn these eyes that will not weep when I need release!
Damn this mind which always thinks and robs me of my peace!
Damn these lips for not speaking what truly must be spoken!
Damn this heart for beating even after it has broken!
Damn these arms for reaching t'ward what isn't mine to be taken!
Damn my longing and my dreams which refuse to be forsaken!

There was once a time that I was saved from my fate by the greatest kind of light.
Yet now I feel, so true and real, it's best I died that night!
Yet live on I shall, forevermore, just waiting for the day-
That Peace and Love or Pain of Death will someday come my way.

-David, The Stargazer

My Dear Ire

Rude Awakenings

Again the drums, beating against my chest. Again the drums, throbbing in my ears. I will myself to rise from the sleep I have once again awakened from, yet my strength once again has been taken from me. Unending moments seem to pass as I struggle against my languid and heavy being. And with every ounce of will left within me, I rouse myself again.

Teary eyed I rub my face, trying ever so hard to recall my dreams. Weakly I shiver, trying ever so hard to remember what warmth felt like.

Yet as I swallow the stale spit in my mouth, my memory yet again fails me. I stare at my hands again, reflecting on my past sins. Thinking that if I corrected them as I remembered them, my curse shall be lifted. But again the drums. The drums whose sound is not heard but felt, whose music is like ice cold fire. Drums which I hear whilst asleep & awake. Who plays the drums?

Smash! Smash! Smash! Smash! Says the clock as it tells me the time. Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Says the faucet as it begs to be closed. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Cries the beating of my heart as it pleads to beat no more. Crack! Yells my bones as I stand from my bed! Bang! Shouts the lights as I flip them on. My blanket thunders as I fold it, my bed screams and shudders as I shift my weight from side to side. The floor explodes as I trod upon it, the birds shriek as they sing in the twilight. The dawn wails as the sun rises, the breeze howling as it dances past my window. But then the drums cease! and again it is quiet. My mind fogs & my breath stills. Confused, I look around searching for the drums. My body numbs and reminds me of my fatigue. My lips chafe and remind me of my thirst. My eyes dull and remind me of my sleep. My heart aches and reminds me I still yet live. Again I fall back upon my bed. Again I curl myself beside my pillows. Again I return to sleep. Always surprising is the coming and going of the drums. Even though I have grown accustomed to these rude awakenings, still it surprises me and fills me with dread. I dread, for I know I shall wake once more to the beating of the drums.

What are these drums that plague me? What strikes them and lets loose their sound? When will I cease to hear them? When will I be given peace? Drums why do you wake me now? Why only now not then? Why in my weakened state do you decide to torment me? Why so fervently do you assail me? And yet why do I seek thee when you disappear? Why do I fear your passing? Why does my mind bleed with uncertainty and unrest when I feel thee no more? . . . . .

The drums are my hopes, great and wonderful. The drums are my dreams, distant yet within my sight. The drums are my memories, painful yet comforting. The drums are my loves, unconditional and intense. The drums are my Raison D'etre. It is my soul that beats the drums, unyielding. My soul beats the drums, unwilling to relinquish their existence. They wake me from my stupor, to hurry me along my path. They stir me from my numbness, so I may dance to their beat once more. And as I come to this truth, I realize that the agony of my waking was to return me to the living. Now I understand the nature of my plight. To be so rudely awakened from my slumber is to harken to the call of my drums, the essence of my being. For should my hopes, dreams, memories and loves fail to shake me from my trance, never again shall I awaken.

Destroy my peace once more I implore thee, my drums! So that I may wake again into another morning where you await my embrace.

Unsettled

As I stir from sleep and wake mine eyes, what greets me then are darker skies.
Abrupt yet silent and without warning, again I wake before the morning.
What ill fate has taken me? I cannot speak, hear, feel or see.
But then as my sense returns, My throat, mine eyes and heart they burn.
Why is my sleep and breath so short? Which demon plays with me for sport?
When I wake I cannot eat, When I dream I cannot sleep.
When I wake my words are weak, When I dream my dreams are bleak.
How long must I walk this line? This line between my thoughts and time.
How long must my soul endure, this wistful longing without cure.
Have I not all I need?! There is no room for want or greed!
So as I sit 'neath starlit sky, with the sight of dawn caught in my eye,
I humbly beg the heavens high, to reveal to me the reasons why.


Why do I stir and wake from sleep, regardless of a sleep so deep?
Why can't I wake a waking true, awakening with strength anew?
Why is it that I cannot think, my mind and thoughts obscured by Ink?
Heavens, Heavens I do implore, why am I longing from my core?
What is this I so desire? Desire so much I burn with fire?
Fire that burns my thoughts so deep, Fire that wakes me from my sleep!
Fire that excites my mind and form, like wind and lightning in a storm!
What fire is this that burns intense, and eats away my heart's defense!
My heart now bare and filled with flame, it's time I sought my fire's name.


Dearest fire hush for a while, cease your passion and beguile.
Relax your heated grasp of me, so I may ask your name of thee.
What shall I call you ardent thing? Arrowhead or Angel Wing?
Perhaps you are a Tight Embrace? A Voice, a Touch without a face?
Perhaps you are a Symphony? Or Quiet Song that sings to me?
Nay, thou art not merely one by far. All of these you simply are.


Oh Arrowhead that pierces through, and Angel's wing with veil of dew.
Arrow, Arrow bite through my bone, with you I feel I'm less alone!
Angel, Angel with thine wing, into my heart your warmness bring!
Oh Tight Embrace that holds me near, Voice and Touch that kills my Fear.
Embrace, Embrace please never end, upon your refuge I depend!
Voice and Touch you need no face, your soothing still I can't replace.
Oh Symphony that captures me, and Quiet Song that sets me free.
Symphony steal my heart once more! So your beauty I may adore!
Quiet Song, my lullaby, my earth, my sea, my sun, my sky.
With you I cannot sleep, dream, eat and think yet of your cup I long to drink!


Now at this moment I have found, the reasons why I sleep unsound.
The reasons why I've washed away, the crucial portions of my day.
For you are all I'm longing for, you are my all, my open door.
You are the food that makes me whole, you are the thoughts that speak my soul.
You are the sleep I always seek, you are the dreams I cannot keep!
You are my words that I become, you are the silence to which I succumb.
All of these you are to me! And yet away, so far you flee!
I cannot live, I cannot die, I cannot speak, I cannot Lie!
And though my heart's prison you so breach,
Thou art forever out of reach......


-Vendari

“Please... leave me not! Torment me once more, this pain it comforts me.”

Your Reasons to Regret - Boiz

Your Reasons to Regret

You plan to tell her of your love, you'll tell her that and more,

It has always been like this, again over and before.

This truth which you have stumbled on, says the sun it sets now in the east,

For it says that nothing seems to matter more than the one who cares for you the least.

The one who you care for, couldn't care less about you here,

now is the time in which you know, your heart, it's end is near.

And the things you always said were less, the things she never said were more.

These things you said and meant so much, now rot within' your core.

You promise you'd forget her, yet your promise you will break,

You'll never keep these promises, not one which you shall make.

The times of day you'll waste away, this I'm sure you'll find,

you'll waste away with thoughts of her, within your twisted mind.

They tell you to forget, they tell you to move on,

They tell you what is right, but all you'll do is wrong.

And you think of her each waking hour, her name is in your breath,

Now you're going to think of her each hour before your death.

She lingers in your sentences, yet she's never in your arms,

You'll forever be a slave to her, a slave to all her charms.

If not awake you dream of her, in dreams beside you is she,

if this is what forgetting is then forgotten she shall be!

Now you know the truth which in front of you is plain.

Now you've come to realize that your passions are in vain.

She never was serious about all those things she said,

these things that keep you up each time, each time you lay in bed.

Never again will your nights be sound, nor your days be good,

for in the middle of your now cold heart, stay thoughts of what you “could”.

All those things you could have given, and all those things she took,

all the things you could have had, now dangle by a hook.

Regrets are all that remain, within your tortured soul,

regrets of all those painful times, those times as black as coal.

Your cries are all unanswered, the heavens so unkind,

in tears in ev'ry waking hour, your eyes so weak and blind.

Loneliness is your only companion, oh how hopeless you now seem,

For now the only time you smile, is when of her you dream.

-Dr.Drow, The Midnight Syndicate

Damir Vendari FaenTlabbar

Your Reasons to Regret - Gurlz

Your Reasons to Regret

You plan to tell him of your love, you'll tell him that and more,

It has always been like this, again over and before.

This truth which you have stumbled on, says the sun it sets now in the east,

For it says that nothing seems to matter more than the one who cares for you the least.

The one who you care for, couldn't care less about you here,

now is the time in which you know, your heart, its end is near.

And the things you always said were less, the things he never said were more.

These things you said and meant so much, now rot within' your core.

You promise you'd forget him, yet your promise you will break,

You'll never keep these promises, not one which you shall make.

The times of day you'll waste away, this I'm sure you'll find,

you'll waste away with thoughts of him, within your twisted mind.

They tell you to forget, they tell you to move on,

They tell you what is right, but all you'll do is wrong.

And you think of him each waking hour, his name is in your breath,

Now you're going to think of him each hour before your death.

He lingers in your sentences, yet he's never in your arms,

You'll forever be a slave to him, a slave to all his charms.

If not awake you dream of him, in dreams beside you is he,

if this is what forgetting is then forgotten he shall be!

Now you know the truth which in front of you is plain.

Now you've come to realize that your passions are in vain.

He never was serious about all those things she said,

these things that keep you up each time, each time you lay in bed.

Never again will your nights be sound, nor your days be good,

for in the middle of your now cold heart, stay thoughts of what you “could”.

All those things you could have given, and all those things he took,

all the things you could have had, now dangle by a hook.

Regrets are all that remain, within your tortured soul,

regrets of all those painful times, those times as black as coal.

Your cries are all unanswered, the heavens so unkind,

in tears in ev'ry waking hour, your eyes so weak and blind.

Loneliness is your only companion, oh how hopeless you now seem,

For now the only time you smile, is when of him you dream.

-Dr.Drow, The Midnight Syndicate

Damir Vendari FaenTlabbar