Spirit of the Highs

This ain't the wine talking my friend,

It's just all me, in my realms and wonders

Crafted from the scratch, 

Stories of love beheld

It ain't no spirit speaking my love

For all my spirits are vested

In you, in the deepest depths of yours

Kept in shadows unknown to the world above

Not a pint of high today my soul

For I have moved mountains, swam oceans

Looked up at the sky wondering of ours

Sparkles, miracles and even the debacles of ours 

It's all but the man I am my one

I'm all that I have, to be brewed

In love and lust and inhibitions

In awe and dust and recreations.

Gracias,

Banker

Questions of Euphoria

Does she remember me

As a feather in the wind

During her passing of life

The story of me untold?

"Is she thinking of me"

The question I've posed to self

A thousand times over

Never to get an answer, but to breathe

Did she know that I loved her

More than I have ever, more than ever

Making me forget people and places 

As my mind and heart felt only her?

Is this going to end

My fears, my loss and my grief

Seemingly endless and creating strife

For every second since months?

Is she reminded of me 

When my tears fall, when my prayers echo

When my despair reaches for us in the past

To contain me, to hold me and to just, let me be?

Gracias,

Banker

Severed Reverence

Inherence of the world's eyes

Hidden past in the sand and ice

All seeing, yet all bearing

To see the new world up and rearing.

Clinically butchered, the earth lives

All the science and Gods, for it it's all lies

Greenery turned grey and foliage turned garbage

Few nurse it to glory, saving it from the rampage.

A minute too late, too far

You break the pieces that hold bar

To all the lavishes at the mother's cost

You tend to cry right before it's all lost.

"Hello Human", she breathes

"Have you saved no conscience?" and heaves,

"I weep before you at seasons

Never to make you dry, for such reasons."

Severed from all sides and contours 

Fellows you have shown your colours

All I see is red, wiping my greens

To create ends for your dreams

The sweat brimming up against your skins

Seeing the wrath unleashed upon your kins 

You recognize and regret the past

Yet no apologies can move this mast.

Gracias,

Banker

Point Blank

All the world's not a stage

But an asylum made of rage

Shots fired and death hired

Such a time of heresy mired

People come and people go

This life's truth sways to and fro

Expunging fear of hearsay 

From lips talking about mayday

I crave restlessly for the might

Callously bound with no light

Stricken with a topsy world

I heave to bear the cross of wound

Belittled and besmirched, I bow

To deeds of a hell so stark now

Each moment hits me point blank

I move away, on whom can I bank?

Gracias,

Banker