The balance.

 

You've got to find the balance
 The balance inherent within everything.
 In order to survive
 The storms of emotion,
 So that you need not moan
 But like a bird, sing!

 

 As the balanced diet
 Nourishes a body strong
 That in turn keeps
 Your mind ticking along.
 A balanced opinion
 Could often be said
 To be the tool
 Of the wisest of men.

 

 You've got to find the balance
 The balance inherent within everything
 In order to survive
 Life's snaking tensions
 That in all our lives
 Is coiled like a spring.

 

 A balanced account
 Could very much prove
 A guidance to any grasping fool.
 Though what else
 Could cause such alarm
 As when poverty is used
 To socially disarm.

 

 No! we've got to find the balance
 The balance inherent within everything.
 In order to survive
 The storms of emotion,
 So that we need not moan
 But like the birds, sing!

 

 Written by William Shaun Milligan 2013 ©.

 

 

 

 

 

The passing of time.

 

 Do not cry nor wail for me
 Beneath the veil of deaths relief,
 Where I lay still, fast asleep;
 Beyond the pain of fears and regrets,
 No more these eyes to weep
 As time soothes and soon forgets.

 

 So our bonds lay broken
 Far beyond repair;
 As time was fleeting, yet
 Such preciousness we shared.

 Remember love within a smile
 The serenity of the moment
 And the innocence of a child.
 Worthier than gold such contemplations,
 To live each moment
 Beyond foolish expectations.

 

 So do not cry nor wail for me
 Beneath the veil of deaths relief,
 Where I lay still, fast asleep;
 Beyond the pain of fears and regrets.
 No more these eyes to weep
 As time soothes and soon forgets.

 

 Written by William Shaun Milligan 2011©.

 

 

 

 

 

Alienation (Depression).

 

Tired of proving my integrity
Waning from a life of predictability,
Swayed by a collection of thoughts
Dysfunctional and alien of sorts.
As I walked amongst the chequered crowds
Babbling with disjointed tongues,
I did so stare into the Bedouin clouds
Wondering whom are the fortunate ones.
To envision a world forever turning
From an life imprisoned within a shell.
To be the folk forever yearning
Or be the ones contented and well.
Is it just a test in confidence
Or say a self reflection of doubt?
Some would cling to providence
Whilst the cynic, prefers to shout.

 

Written by William Shaun Milligan 2008 ©.

 

 

 

 

 

Unholy war.

 

I see the glinting metal upon a torn horizon
Hearing the shriek of serpents fired;
Hearts sink upon the next reprisal
While Death eagerly sharpens his trusty scythe.

 

I heed the mad mutterings of a cussing language
Devoid of logic yet fortified with pride;
The meekest shrink from the abject carnage
Whilst a god ashamed, finds a place to hide.

 

I read your arguments in the daily papers
Every word crafted from a culture of lies,
Truly yours is the kingdom of Cain
In murdering ones brothers for the lord of flies.

 

I feel the wind harassing all thought
A gale which carries a dismal calamity,
Where no refuge can be bought or sort,
In our world bleeding its costly humanity.

 

Written by William Shaun Milligan 2001©.

 

 

 

 

 

Roll up Roll up for war.

 

"Their ready for the greatest show on earth,
Searching for intelligence, amongst the Senate clowns.
So "Roll up roll up" as I hear for what its worth
The circus of death, is to be making its rounds".

 

Written by William Shaun Milligan 2013©.

 

 

 

 

 

 Existential nightmares.

 

 Will tomorrow ever come,
 When I close my eyes tonight?
 As the World turns to the east,
 Where two tempests unite.

 

 Will tomorrow ever come
 For the man who nolonger believes?
 The broken by the wayside
 Swept away like fallen leaves.

 

 Will tomorrow ever come
 When our world is in flames?
 Fuelled by a greed,
 Always staking its claims.

 

 Will tomorrow ever come
 When you can read my own thoughts
 And there still exists a world
 Of books, and love of sorts.

 

 Will tomorrow ever come
 So I can act upon the times
 And practise all that Ive learnt
 Before the final signs.

 

 Will tomorrow ever come
 Or, we lay murdered in our beds;
 The final solution
 With the rolling of heads.

 

 Will tomorrow ever come
 I hear myself ask,
 But living in the moment
 You live it, like your last.

 

 Written by William Shaun Milligan 2013©.

 

 

 

 

 

 This morning (Mourning)

 

 From out of the dawn mist
 Which hung so softly and heavily rich,
 The strangest urge accompanied me
 To familiar haunts of childhood streets.
 Taunted by their spectral whispers
 Of long deceased conversations,
 By vacated ghosts
 Of life's forgotten fixtures,
 Tipping their caps, as if to toast
 The imagination of their host.
 I knew therefore, this was my folly
 To attach my mind to broken ties
 So looked beyond such melancholy
 To the very moment before my eyes.

 

 Written by William Shaun Milligan 2008©.

 

 

 

 

 

 Armageddon blues.

 

 In the temples, soon after death
 The moneylenders reappeared
 Dealing blood under the suffering shadow;
 The currency of souls auctioneered.
 In the bustling, crushing high-streets
 A million Lazarus's gather to preach,
 Weighed down by the gold of peers
 Their tongues blistered by hypocrisies
 And stomachs folded by opulent years.
 Each one a Pontius Pilate
 Two thousand years to date;
 Forsaken by the masses which nervously swoon
 From the material indoctrinations,
 Is how the darkest days loom.
 Pitting men against brothers,
 As only a religious corruption brews;
 Each soldier born of quaking mothers,
 Dance to the strains of the Armageddon blues.

 

 Written by William Shaun Milligan 2001©

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Secret lovers.

 

 Sadly, our eyes could not dwell nor meet
 For fear of the longing intimacy.
 Though beneath our stifled breasts
 Drummed loudly the beat, of love's great lunacy.
 When holding a loft, from notions of desire,
 Our gestures proved "The bodies no liar";
 With scarlet lips, ripened for the kissing
 And pupils broadening, to deadly shades of night;
 The borders of anxiety, weighed down a hope sinking,
 As each held in esteem, the others sexual might.

 

 Written by William Shaun Milligan 2005©.

 

 

 

 

 

The Idealist.

 

Idealism and truth is my Gasoline,
Its what keeps me alive and running.
I cannot defend a compromise
That's unjust and wile-fully cunning.

 

And so I make the best of friends,
As good paths are bound to cross.
Never needing to follow lavished trends
When instead theres universal logos.

 

So I only step where I'm welcome,
Dusting my shoes  where I'm not
Marking out a discriminate kingdom,
Which routinely loses the plot.

 

Searching for a path through the maze
Of a corupted garden with isolating walls,
That keeps every human in a constant phase
Of economic warfare and bitter social brawls. 

 

Idealism and truth is my Gasoline
Its what keeps me alive and running.
I cannot defend a compromise
That's unjust and wilefully cunning.
 

Written by William Shaun Milligan 2013©.