the birth of a newborn

A light impact was made upon the ground,

Causing the soft dust to rise above the land.

The mood was calm and the wind gentle,

Carrying along with it the tiny speckled sand.

The cries of a newborn broke the silence,

It annouced a new life waiting to unfold.

The people gathered around the yound child,

For the sound was too beautiful to behold.

Sharing that special moment were many,

The young and the old, the puerile and wise.

Like one they imagined the infant's future,

But it was somethings impossible to surmise.

The little nursling was cute and adorable,

The feeling perceived was far from torment.

No eye gleamed brighter than the mother's,

No doubt that this was her proudest moment.

the chant of lamentation

Alas, the grey clouds gather round by my death bed. As if singing a dirge, they chant on endlessly. My heart has fallen apart into the dying flames and has rekindled the fire. But in doing so it has disintegrated. It hurts so bad. There it was, the hope of the enchanted dreams. It hovered right above my head. It voiced words of enticement. I hastened to grab it. But it disappeared into dust the second I laid my shaking hands upon it. I had not known what it would have done, nor what it would do. Now I am wasting away into my dreams. They will remain so. And my life will follow it. Does nothing ever come true?