Finding January

What’s in search,
Still hides,
Beneath the twilight.
Though summer reigns,
Unbreakable still,
The shadows of yesterday.
You’re January.
Stirring the wise,
With your ubiquity.
If certain of ambition,
Grin won’t harbor disgust,
Embrace won’t suffocate.
Only drought comes,
For someone who waits.

- Rasui Akira

written on May 30, 2006 – 12:01 AM

Rebirth

It pierces through the abyss,
Light vanquishing gloom.
Eyes awake, admiring the wonder.
Breath returns, though never gone.

His retreat led this place.
To uncertainty, chaos in its reach.
But who would be denied,
The gift of his love.

For in the depths of one’s illusion,
He journeyed unselfishly,
So hearts would not be tainted,
By the twilight of our pasts.

His sacrifice is honored,
Through relentless gratitude.
We may never surpass your grace,
But steps can fit in your prints.
Eternal is the lesson of your rebirth.

- Rasui Akira

written on April 15, 2006 – 8:35 PM

Mistaken

Aches of a thousand blisters,
Remnant in my core,
Plaguing my facade,
With encumbering gloom.

I miss you,
But not really.

Maybe this will subside,
If memories flee.
Then healing would be certain.
Would it?

My gift of pain,
Is also mine.

Profanity was my wish,
Your piety never indulged in.
Its better that we’re free,
If only not caged still.

Now I have myself,
My selfishness.

We’ll be fine,
Once we’ve found ourselves.
Those lost will be regained,
Those wasted to be reused.

Find something better,
Something else,
Someone that’s not me.

- Rasui Akira

written on April 13, 2006 – 10:17 PM

Chapped Lips

A desert,
Where blood flows.
You’re not shale,
You flinch with its breaking.
Yet, you chose to stay,
Under the eternal heat,
While an oasis waits,
Dews to quench your thirst.
May you be content,
Of the choice you’ve taken.
Be forewarned,
Weariness is coming.
For it will only get hotter,
It will only scathe you further.

- Rasui Akira

written on March 28, 2006 - 2:28 AM

dedicated to a friend, Stef ( a.k.a “Paning” )

Deaf

Orifice moves,
Delivering truth,
Through electronic routes.
Distance to approach.

Though echoes,
Reach one’s sense,
It couldn’t resound.
Misled, deaf.

The illusion of space,
Has hindered fact.
But inescapable,
Wounds of aversion.

If wisdom could rain down,
So as to cleanse both,
Burdens will be removed.
Now, only tears are your ablution.

- Rasui Akira

written on March 28, 2006 - 1:58 AM

dedicated to a friend, Jim