Felix Mejia, Poems

———Death————-
It’s the end for some,
it’s the start for others,
it’s the place for some,
which they need to recover,
It’s been a mystery for centuries,
where not judgment lies,
it’s been the cradle of karma,
where no one has to decide.

——-Winter is Coming———–

It is soon to be the loneliest season,
where the birds fly south and the animals adapt,
to the soon death and physical attack that is winter.
Winter is coming,
and with it, long nights and short days,
hard wishes and long quests, to get what we need.
Winter is coming my mother says,
while closing the windows and praying to the gods for a safe return to what we most hold dear,
the safety and warm-nest of the soon-to-be spring.

—–Useless object——

For you it’s meaningless,
For me it’s priceless,
it is a reminder and a binder of what it used to be.
My mother gave it to me and with it came emotions,
nostalgia, grieve and sadness are part of its conjunction.
It is a token and regalia,
priceless, timeless, and important,
it is what I believe it is,
and it holds the value I believe it holds,
it holds my mothers’ love,
and the condensed mixture of our path and souls.

——Lies——-
It can be the first step to a better future,
or the bad move of the incautious,
it can prevent sadness and conflict,
or provide destruction and sanctions.
It is as some may say, just a simple lie,
built upon, comfortable,
our civilization lies.
In a world where dishonestly and treachery rules,
lies became truths and truths became tales,
its what makes us humans,
It’s what makes earth, hell.