My poems
Quiet Love
By: Brian Hywel
As I sit here and think of you, my heart races. When we are together, we need not say anything to understand that which we feel. I look into your soft eyes and see the affection you kindly bestow upon me. I place my hand on your shoulder and bring you nigh to me, as a token of my affection for you. Things seem so right when we are together, how could anything be wrong? As though providence has bestowed his blessings upon our relationship. Be it true that we have not been together for long, but still we have each other. In times of need, I will be your gallent knight, giving all my strength to your device. I then pray that you would be my shoulder to lean on when my strength fails, that we may rest and revel in our affections and together be strong. To you I pledge my time, as I love your company. May I never offend you, nor irk your kind and sweet disposition. Pray that things go well, and that our time be long. To time we shall face, and a legacy shall we leave behind. Love, for allways in this being, shall I grant to you.The Song of My Heart
By: Brian Hywel
When I look upon thine face, my heart stirs with pure and simple love. I see thine hurt, I feel thine pain. Thoust cry on my shoulder and I draw thee nigh with my arm, cought in the torment of the moment. I wish thee only well, that thee only be happy. I state in agony the fact that my ramblings weigh heavy on our hearts. Beit a dream we would be together always, until time runs over. I canst help but think that our paths wilt cross again someday, and our worlds wilt meet once again. Being void of emotion now my eyes fill with tears and I am cought in the pain of the torments of this reality. Cursed reality! I knowest not why, but I feel as though I should apologize for our relationship. I feel in some way responsible for the fact that we shalt seperate, because I am cursed in love. Anyone I get close to either has to move quickly away or can not bear me long. I am your instrument of passion and lover pure. Part must I now with this write, for my heart is broken and I must away to another place to meditation's embrace. Be well my lady, for I love thee.Soul-Searching
By: Brian Hywel
Want of man have I none
Yet want of woman, fear I some
For seclusion's embrace is yet so sweet;
Beating my heart into a thin malleable sheet.
I want not; Yet have I more.
I shant keep, except my lore.
Why, then, am I alone?
As if to say, I cast a stone,
Aloft in heaven's bosom,
And yet deep in Hell's dark chasm.
Be it true, be it same;
As a child plays a game,
Care I not, for therein;
Haunt I this such a spot,
For as I said,
Care I not.
Demon Red
By: Brian Hywel
(Dedicated to my ex-girlfriend, Mindy Warren..hee hee ^_-)
Yonder demon red; torments mine soul. Calleth my name and snicker at my countenance do ye well, ay, well enough to boil mine blood. Away wish I to go, far from you and from this asinine construct which haunteth my soul. Thou art ye embodiment of that which I loathe; away with thee and thoust tormenting words! Haunt me no longer! Our relations were burned out long ago, and I wish not thou. I dislike whom I become when you are near, and flee do I from thee to escape mine transformation into the dragon I become from thine taunts. Ay, thoust red hair makes thee demon red.The Black Man
By: Brian Hywel
This poem was suggested to be put up by one of my good friends named Ashley Browning. Thanks for the feedback!
The Black man cometh, for to take thee away; Mine bane is readied forto dispatch yonder Demon and protect thou from his evil intents; Make well thine youth, lest it abandon thee and Thou falleth into ye pit of darkness forever; Make well thine intents lest they be tainted With Satan’s wine and atrophy into lustful reasons Or evil constructs; I prithee heed my council and Take dear mine words as to wise man’s want, dear journeyer; I canst not fathom such darkness hold sway nor imprint it’s damnable device upon thine heorte, young and pur as `tis; Let not the dark man take power, but flee quickly his presence; Care much for thou do I, so be well, be safe until thy journey’s end And I shalt pray thine safe return.Heart of the warrior
By: Brian Hywel
I feel the heart of a warrior, and the mind of a sage. For I feel I was born long after my age. My spirit is old, as old as time itself. I feel as though I were misplaced in time, a star crossed image, clad in black. Why must I endure these trials and hardships? Many of which are not my own! In dream do I stray, to a far away land, To my home long ago, where one need not make a stand. Where the grass is greener, and the air lighter, Where the sky is more blue, and dark seem more light, And light itself, brighter and warmer then anyone could know! The hills roll gently, and the wind blows calmly, Refreshing your body without any chill. People there are happy, and oh so happy of course! They laugh and smile, and there is felt no remourse! They forgive easily, and are never cross, And will oblige to help and comfort anyone who has loss. Yet, a dream does it stay, for we are all too vain for such a land! Oh that we could become as the place in my dreams! So that all could be merry and happily sing! No scorn or hate would there be placed, And all mankind would be of one race! Together we would work, hand and hand as it would seem And we all could have free to each our own dream! Where we need not fear of others' scorn. Take the heart of the warrior, and the mind of the sage, Even if you were or were not meant to be born in this age. Dream your own dreams, and keep your own desires, For shall we all soon end, as though merely a fire.Soul Fire
By: Brian Hywel
Some people live as though an ember most of their life. They are not very hot or very large. They just seem to sit there and crackle, and all too soon burn out upon the floor, useless and worthless because they never reached above the stature of an ember. Others burn slightly more, as though a candle being lit in a storm to keep the light. Others still burn brighter, as a flare to light the way on a lonely highway in the dark hour of the soul. Few ever reach the flare of a bonfire, or the brightness of a star. Those who do have deep a fire residing in their soul. They are normal people like you and I, merely they are undeterred by life’s hardships and tribulations. One once said that a big shot is a little shot who keeps shooting. Life is like a fire, all too soon does it fade, but hopefully the fire can be used to help others in their time of need.The Pain of the Soul
By: Brian Hywel
I look inside myself and see a heart that has been melted by the love of a woman. What once was stone, now is soft. Many things I see upset my being, disturb my soul, deep within. I cannot cry, though I feel the phantom tears well up within me. It is not that I do not wish to show my emotions because I am a man, it is because I have lost the ability because of disuse. I often ask myself why we must be vain and hate one another. I seek to this day, but cannot find an answer that will supplement the question. I am dark because this is what people have made me. Mayhaps I am merely after my time, as someone once suggested. But, if I am, surely there must be a reason for my placement. Was I chosen to spread a message to all whom would bide hear? Or am I simply a lonely and disgusted person whom is fed up with society today? Why must we hate? Why must we lust? Only we can answer this question, for deep within us resides the answer. The soul is the ultimate answer for the great question, for only you know the true answer to your questions. Long have I meditated upon this, and these are the as yet humble answers I have attained. The path of wisdom is long and a hard one to travel and follow, yet the rewards are so great that the true wise ones shall seek the path. I pray my ramblings have touched and awakened something within you, for they are more then mere words. They are a reflection of my soul, if anyone cares to know.The Black-clad Visage
By: Brian Hywel
Black-clad visage roaming through the night
Making well his midnight flight
Until the sun shall shine bright
And he shall end his gothic midnight flight
But until then he shall roam
For it is because he has no home
Not a home to call his own
Wanderlust haunts his being
But it really is not hard seeing
The spirit that encompasses his being
Going about his nightly business
So am I that black-clad visage.