Heartburn

i've searched the world but there is not a cure
to end the suffering that tortures me
my life is burning to a char for sure

i'll burn until no more i can endure
and slither to the bottom of the sea
i've searched the world but there is not a cure

a heartburn sears my heart for ever more
this dragon i've become is all i see
my life is burning to a char for sure

with flaming breath i singe the wooden door
a broken heart has splintered all of me
i've searched the world but there is not a cure

just one small grave like his i am assured
i scream and burn my lips, i cannot flee
my life is burning to a char for sure

untainted by a mix this pain is pure
unrivaled by a similarity
i've searched the world but there is not a cure
my life is burning to a char for sure

(C)2010, Christos Rigakos

for years he tried to share his past with me

for years he tried to share his past with me
yet i rejected it for fleeting things
he's old, his past is now a memory

he showed me life back then so frequently
with all the joy that such recalling brings
for years he tried to share his past with me

today he hardly says a word to me
of bygone days' most beauty-filled old things
he's old, his past is now a memory

i now have left behind the things that flee
appreciate the old like golden rings
for years he tried to share his past with me

he sees my change and wonders curiously
why I would care how great old timers sing
he's old, his past is now a memory

he's grown apart from what he used to be
now who's to say whose eyes now feel more sting
for years he tried to share his past with me
he's old, his past is now a memory

(C)2010, Christos Rigakos

the gears keep turning round and round and round

the gears keep turning round and round and round

been trapped between the cogs well since that day

my aching bones into a dust are ground

within grief's pain machine I can be found

pulled slowly through this single path and way

the gears keep turning round and round and round

if only memories were small and round

i'd squeeze by teeth with some little leeway

my aching bones into a dust are ground

for memories are great, greater beat down

compressed, for every extra inch I pay

the gears keep turning round and round and round

remembering my brother's death, tears drown

my lungs with agony but every day

my aching bones into a dust are ground

my flesh has left with his without a sound

i'm trapped inside, I'll never get away

the gears keep turning round and round and round

my aching bones into a dust are ground

(C)2010, Christos Rigakos

i hold within, my treasured memories

i hold within, my treasured memories
inside my private treasure chest, my brain
one day they'll be dispersed into the breeze

and though the pictures faded in degrees
their value's grown as wheat grows from the grain
i hold within, my treasured memories

i'll always view them when i turn the keys
that play the moving pictures frame by frame
one day they'll be dispersed into the breeze

for i live but an hour despite my pleas
until the day they melt and turn to stains
i hold within, my treasured memories

he's now a whispered wind among the trees
who lives only in pictures deep ingrained
one day they'll be dispersed into the breeze

this treasure chest will join them as a frieze
and my pictures will haunt another's brain
i hold within, my treasured memories
one day they'll be dispersed into the breeze

(C)2010, Christos Rigakos

the good struggle, their souls are always tested

the good struggle, their souls are always tested

temptation pierces flesh down to the bone

the bad are fine, their minds already bested

their foreheads burnt with mark so crimson crested

the difference 'tween the two is overblown

the good struggle, their souls are always tested

and guilt weighs heavy 'pon those fallen chested

humility runs rampant, always shown

the bad are fine, their minds already bested

feeling contempt for them, the good detested

the sinful seeds they've planted become grown

the good struggle, their souls are always tested

eating their tears, their guilt is full ingested

in prayers tearing, pleading with their moans

the bad are fine, their minds already bested

so unaware their souls have been digested

the devil will pursue those not his own

the good struggle, their souls are always tested

the bad are fine, their minds already bested

(C)2010, Christos Rigakos