A booklet of poems

A booklet of short poems

"Sounds"

By: Lyric

Sounds are power in this world;

The noise you make, the words you say;

They determine your visibility, what makes you colorful or grey;

What determines how people see you;

Their stares of awe or hate.

Sound is beauty, a wave of pattern on the air;

Sound is abhorrent, a discordant pattern torn from hell;

Sound is love, songbirds calling out to each other on the wind;

Sound is hate, propaganda beaming from every console and tv;

Sound is order, connected waves on the largest scale;

Sound is chaos, patterns intersecting and overlapping to create a blanket static;

Yet through all of this, we only learn one thing;

Sound is a medium, through which all can travel;

Sound is soul;

The connected fiber of our world.

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"Stardust"

By: Unknown

In every drop of your blood;

Rests a trillion trillion atoms of stardust;

Forged in the fires of the cosmos;

In the dying gasps of stars long dead;

In the collision of the most massive stars within this universe.

We are all stardust;

We all share a legacy;

We all share a future;

The iron we use to breathe;

The carbon in our cells;

Everything we are;

Everything we could be;

Forged in the early universe;

As the stars themselves grew old.

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"Worlds Of Glass"

By: Lyric

To write without inspiration;

To pull a world from thread;

To yank your mind by the cord of creativity;

When that thread is yet invisible;

And that cord made of glass;

Is to create a world of true blandness;

Of tepid tea and depressingly calm waters;

Of rehashed legend, with nothing new;

With nothing but a reflection of that boredom which plagues the mind of the author;

For the only way to pull a world from the mind of one;

Which has no emotion;

Nor conflict;

Is to pull the world from the mind of one who feels naught.