Monday, February 22, 2010


loneliness speaks the language of the dead
unheard by any but only You and I,
poets tirelessly speaking of this moment
and artists trying hard to capture in colors,
dead men rise to speak about it
birds and beasts preserve this moment
in solitude they seek the euphoric joy, in loneliness.
loneliness, the moment of revelation
soul's exposure to the mightiest of silence
the end of a beginning
a blissful beginning unto an end.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 220210.

1 comment:

  1. very nice, Cyclops....Freedom and the accompanying bit of loneliness is a must for poets, i think for creativity...and to read and enjoy, and possibly inspire, the circle of friends is always there :)