Refuge From Death


Alone, the oak stands-

The shelter of a desperate man,

With blood on his hands

And fears, rain and tears

Merged on his gaze-

Alone the oak stands.

Refuge without retribution…


Awake from realisation,

He who slept in the sinners respite.

That running, running night, buried.

All things are covered and revealed…





Race to the end. (A Haiku)

A race we all want to lose,
With hurdles along the way,

Note to readers: This poem may seem contradictory, in that no one wants to lose at life. However what I was trying to get across was that no one wants to finish life before others, rather many would want to let others go first even though to see friends finish life first is as painful as lagging behind, figuratively losing. If I were to edit this haiku today I would change it drastically to “a race we never want to finish” among other changes. However this is an old poem (3 years old) so I wish to leave it as it originally was. I won’t normally put notes and thoughts on my poems but this was an exception. In the comments below please tell me whether adding notes like this to my poetry would enhance my poetry or detract from it.