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Wil Kavi

Wil Kavi

The secret

Come out,
come out,
wherever you are.
I know you’re in here.
You dirty little secret.
 
Nibbling and munching away
at the edges of my soul;
like some voracious parasite
smart enough to know
I must stay alive,
or it will surely die.

Altre opere di Wil Kavi...
The abyss

Who of you will follow where I’m bound to go? None that I can see. None that I can name. No-one that I know.
Four walls

There are no pictures on these wal… no mountain lakes nor sailing ship… Not long ago there were no walls Life was lived outside your window… I’d tried to live within four wall…
Forgiveness

Forgiveness? Not on your life. My life was stolen from me. For what?
All i ever wanted

That blue-gray rainy day, the blue-gray funeral parlor. There you were laid out in blue and gray. So still.
 1
Poor me

I met a man who told me that he’s looking for the way he might become more free, less encumbered in his life. Poor me, poor me, poor me;
Moth to the flame

Everything he has ever been taught alerts him to avert that dancing f… What is it then that demands he mu… proceed towards his certain fiery… Some deep and ancient voice within
Why are you here ?

Why are you here ? Where did you come from ? Why have i been cursed with one so radiant and true ? There’s no time for your curious m…
The nameless ones

I’ve howled and raved and ranted at all those whom I could name, in search of peace and freedom from this ancient seething rage. But still there lingers bitter bil…
 2
No strings

I have suffered much while upon this earth, so aching to belong. To whom, or what, or why?
 1
Ideas and notions

Ideas and notions, they’re all for the dreamers, worth as much or less than one's considered opinion. You can’t even wrap fish in them.
No place to hide

If I could steal you out of time, there would be no place to hide. I would finish what was started when you left me here to die. It’s not vengeance which I seek,
 1
Say nothing

These words I cry do not come easily; as if they echo from the cold stone depths of a long forgotten tomb.
Step right up

I hide here behind a genuine misbelief that I am special, I am different I and only I
Still waters

Water ever seeks it’s perfect peace, from mountain heights to scattered oceans deep. So too our spirit follows
Imperfect time and place.

My father is dead, still he speaks through me; “Don’t say anything....OR ELSE!… There was plenty of “OR ELSE!” to go around.



Alto