Live to Confess

http://www.jacobgallery.com/art_gallery/limited_edition_prints/Vladimir_Kush/Vladamir_Kush-Love_Confession.jpg

The appearance of the beloved urges the lover to confess…
Perhaps, how a sight of the star allures a rock to confess.

What took so long to create one they hear is a masterpiece.
They believe in night of revelation ‘the artist’ would confess.

Uncovered is now the site that was long buried in a dune.
What used to be a norm once, the worn walls did confess.

The peace your foe was stranded off to for an entire life.
Frisk those torn rags, perhaps a sand on ground would confess.

Those places where even stars get pushed over the edge.
Observe them at the darkest, your heart would confess.

Let the night guard be obstructed by clouds today..
In lieu of veil allow a drunkard few spells to confess.

Mind not my falls today that too steep is a mountain,
Earnest of climber requires mere moments to confess.

Strange is an ocean restless to kiss the shore for lover’s steps.
In those memories who drowned again seeking to confess.

Notice the folly of love for the beloved who betrayed forever.
On same doorsteps one finds self, by the morning to confess.

What resolve did one observe under the influence last day?
Taints on the sheets, ink marks on the body too confess.

What was the name of the flower that revived thee?
Speaking less of thy own, whole garden did confess.

Notice an evening bride, read visage of hers to tell apart.
Which part is here to avenge, what part is absent to confess.

Fragrances of the past are not going to last for much longer.
At time of the twilight, even passing wind here did confess.

Did read an adage loud – the Pastor after hearing all the story,
“Let this not be forgotten: we born to suffer but live to confess.”

“When will I be seeing you again?” asked the confidant once,
Replied: “Perhaps, after few irredeemable sins to confess.”

For what the world of today exhibits as sample of humanity,
what value holds a man in here, even Titans would confess.

Rumor is, for all mess, they’ll lend a credit to an alien race.
Before pen strikes paper, allow criminal some courtesy to confess.

What is hidden behind an illusion, a mask or another face?
No sheets of glass, no mirror in a world can confess.

Inescapable was an irony, facing after the years
Found my robe stained too after hearing the foe confess.

Consider today the flame is going to fade finally!
Tell Majestic now, what is that you have to confess…

 

http://www.purelightphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/A-guilty-conscience-needs-to-confess-A-work-of-art-is-a-confession.jpg

– Dedicated to the confessions of a lover for the sake of more love.

Art/ Image Credits:
1. Love Confession by Vladamir Kush.
2. Alber Camus Quote – Purelightphoto.com

2 thoughts on “Live to Confess

  1. my dear brother, your soul takes us places we’d never imagined going, and in truth, once in awhile wish we hadn’t gone. i celebrate your ability and willingness to explore the segments of life that are largely unexplored or unknown to most. confess? yes, we must. and yet there is in each of us pieces of rock so dense and impenetrable that they will not surrender a confession.

    • Thank you Bob for always supporting me. Brother, your words always leave me encouraged, and then I am no longer afraid of experimenting any more.🙂 It is true indeed – a confession, that there’re places one wishes to explore – like dark corners of humanity, but it’s not always good in outcome what one wishes for. Yet confession allows us to see ourselves from an eye outside of our own being. When we try to revisit memories and see how wrong we’ve been, how afraid, reluctant or impulsive or naive… Whether it helps us to be better or same that’s another question, but confession at least puts us in position where we know what we’re. And knowing thyself, my brother is perhaps always a first step.🙂 Also one can’t ignore the fact – the lightness one feels in soul (consciousness and conscience) when we support honesty rather than deceit, when we’re not holding anything, and expressing our feelings as they’re. And irony when sometimes the pleasure of admitting a guilt, is a pleasure guilty indeed. Isn’t that is what an art for? So that one confesses about self and the ironies associated with own-being without being overly judged or overly sympathized with.

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