Power does mystify me
Power emanating from the skies
Power, from the unknown
The only thing which allows me to be
Love does attract me
Love from the other realm
Love of another kind
Love, of such a kind, as willing me to leave everything else behind
Life does put me into desolation
A harsh and hard one it is
Here, one is indeed meant to toil
To suffer and to enjoy false pleasures
God does bewilder me
If He does be
Why, O Why, did He have me fallen, sick on Earth
If He does be, why does He not make Himself felt and seen?
Being delved deep in an art, does allow me to be free
In it, I feel that I am being myself
A poet is all I am
A poet of the mystical, a poet seeking to find the real!
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