11: Palate

Landscape of my mind,
A symphony of balance.
Good fighting evil,
Light vanquishing darkness.

A brilliant painting,
Red against green on blue.
An alluring figure,
Sculpted within my imaginations.

Salty sea surf,
Refreshing garden herbs.
The subtle hint of lemon zest,
Hidden amidst the mustiness of aged lamb.

The delicate balance,
Life, love, lust,
Ever precarious upon a plate.

Yet within the canvas of my mind,
Wrecked with splashes of tastes,
A masterpiece takes form
Through blossoming palates.

10: Dawn

Retreat through the streets,
Skirt the edges.
The night is never safe,
The hour approaches.

Sirens blaring,
People shouting.
A fire burns uncontrolled,
A mother weeps.

The night is young,
And the emotions wild.
Whoever knew such violence could exist.

Hard knocks,
Heavy hands.
Curb your anger,
We are your fellow men.

The night shall pass,
The damage never be undone.
One life lost, millions changed.

Run, flee, hide.
But it won't be long,
Before the light catches up.

The night subsides,
Paving the way for the light.
A natural order,
Since time immemorial.

Dawn is upon us,
The hour of awakening.
Enlightened,
We now see.

9: Silhouettes

Wind rustling through the valley,
Rock faces weathered by sand and time.
Dry dusty land,
Littered with relics of yesteryear.

An empty barren place,
Devoid of life.
A colourless landscape,
A tribute to dust, dirt and death.

Shadows of ghosts,
Men and women alike.
Living a life in the shadows,
Without knowledge of the impeding doom.

A flash, 

A wave.
A searing burn,
Sweeping through the land,
Disinfecting, disintegrating.

The atrocities of Man,
Bore witness by the passing of time.
A ghost town, no living souls.
The epicenter of wrath and destruction.

The only remnants,
Shadows of lives lost to fate. 

Silhouettes,
A memory that never fades.

8: Angel

Voices carried upon the winds,
Thoughts running in the air.
Light touches of inflections,
Gentle waves of modulations.

Words far too kind,
Flattery far too excessive.
A revelation cushioned,
Another fall undeterred.

Infectious laughter,
Gracious smiles.
A kind face etched with lines of laughter,
Eyes drawn with the coming of a smile.

Golden halo,
Wings laced with feathery down.
Flowing armour of purity.
Flaming sword of wisdom

An angel of the heavens,
A messenger from God.
A defender of good,
A vanquisher of evil.

Ascend.

7: Concealed

Cover your faces,
Conceal your features,
And hide your shadows.
The darkness is your only friend,
The light, your foe.
Cover and be concealed,
Cower and be repealed.

No one has to know,
Nor wants to show,
The shadows they meld,
The skeletons they stow.
But oh lo behold, when life hits a low,
They crawl to a slow,
And it's just yet another show.

No one sees me in the meadows,
No one finds me in the shadows.
I'm the master of concealment,
The master puppeteer.
Plucking the strands of my heart strings,
The puppet that is me.
Faceless, nameless, formless, lifeless.

It's just another show,
Another hi, another bye.
And one show that I can't follow,
Another night, another flight.
I'll never know,
If I'll ever know,
That which is known.

6: Second Wind

Singing that one song,
That one tune, a melody from the heavens,
A gift of the gods.

You leave a trail of gold,
A godsend from the heavens above.

A familiar face in a sea of strangers,
A hot chocolate in a bitter winter.
A saving grace for a wretched heart,
A silent prayer for the fallen souls.

Songbirds sings in the foliage,
Flowers bloom in the meadow.
Spring is here, winter is past.
The air is sweet and the grass is green.

Alas, you pass me by.
Fate makes yet a mockery of me.
The angelic face fades into the darkness.
The voice that leads vanishes into the distance.
Gold leaves that paved your path,
All that is left,
Has left.

5: Hope

Plunged into icy darkness,
Stifling silence.
No sound penetrates such depths,
No light exists in such shadows.
The fiend lives within,
Waiting to claim his next trophy.

A beam sears through the darkness.
A groan echoes in the silence.
The blind sees
The deaf hears.

The walls of captivity crumbles,
The chains of solitude shatters.
The captives stumble,
Freedom is nigh.

The fiend is hurt.
Blistering hate and poison words,
Scalding, burning, scarring,
Never relenting, never forgiving.
Always hiding, and waiting.
Waiting for the darkness that follows the light.
Waiting for the perfect time to strike one more.

A glimmer of hope is all it took,
The jailer becomes the jailed.

4: Concussion

Am I in heaven?
Have I passed the pearly gates into eternal bliss?
Or am I in hell,
With the fires of eternity lapping at my feet?

Nothing seems to make sense.
And yet everything clicks.

I remember.
Or do I?

The crash.
The burn.
The inevitable end.

This must be heaven,
Or hell for my sins.
This might well be a new life.
What do you call life after the end?

An alleyway spans before me,
The filthy rodents crisscross my path,
Daring me to take one more step into their domain.
An angel lights up the opposite end of the alley.

Do I step through the filth of this sewer strewn with garbage and shit to reach salvation?
Or judgement.