a feeling of love



Whenever I am with you,
the world remains still.
No wonder my heart worships
your every movement,
your every breath.
For you are like the light,
seen dancing with dawn;
your arrival is what gives
life its truest meaning.
For in your light, I find that
everything has a place.
Even shadows linger, to promise
more than emptiness –
if our hearts so desire.

be forever mine



Ever softly did tears arrive
to awaken the night.
With it came the wind
to reveal its beauty
and the moon to shine
gently upon my cheeks.

Were I not already enamoured
with the sun my heart would
now burn to a different light,
my thoughts would turn
towards a deeper ocean
and Day would be but a dream.

These are, but foolish thoughts
for in truth all can be mine;
let the light of distant stars
be my inspiration,
the sun to remain my life and
let the moon be forever in my heart.

100 Word Story: a new beginning


The light looked too inviting.

Warm and brilliant though it was, something felt eerily amiss.

A lack of movement, perhaps! No, that wasn’t it.

Although stillness gripped the moment, what really proved unnerving was the inexplicable aura of familiarity, beckoning and urging him to relinquish his feeble hold on life – all for a mere feeling of belonging.

Belonging to what?

What could the unknown offer that life could not?

Before reason could grasp the magnitude of the question to summon anxiety, time intervened by refusing to lend itself to such meaningless thoughts; choosing instead to clear a path to redemption.

100 Word Stories: worshipped from afar


As I turned, to set my gaze upon her distant face, I realised that never would a day rise more beautifully than If I were to awaken by her side.

Moments ago, in dreams, she was mine…more real than the brightness of the sun summoning me to the light of day!

Now, awake to her presence, my heart dares not hope, dares not be more than a shadow in her light.

Sadly, I must contentment find in the mere thought of her touch.

For dreamy moments, are but dreams. She, a Goddess, I to remain no more than man.

change of fortune


It takes but a single day
to change the fortunes of men.
How the haunted often struggle
as they hide in shame
in a shadow of their own making;
sagely counting irreversible steps
in the hope of retracing, in a haphazard way,
the path that drew them to their folly.

While with the toss of a coin,
the fortunate are seen to bask in radiant light.
Blessed never to endure the indignity
that others face in ill-fated winds.
With head held high, they often stride
with joyful poise to be elevated
by the unearthly status granted
by admiration and envy.

Tears of oppression



O rise you brave indignant souls
enough of lifeless tears
drained from hidden wells.

Come forth to share the light
and bask in open truth
to cleanse your mortal stains.

No more should you in silence bear
the injustice of a passing wind
whose voice speaks of oppression.

Give not your tormentors
strength through your silence
but speak not as a lover scorned.

And through strength of a blade
indiscriminately strike random hearts
and wound thy precious soul.

Gather great courage in your voice
and know that it is more than
match for what ails this world.

Let it bellow loudly to awaken
dormant hearts to your cause
and thus through conscience touch.

To raise such fire in their blood
that wouldst injustice slay and
be the cause of peaceful change.

my constant companion


Existing between light and dark
stands my growing shadow.
My constant companion is
forever bound to my body and soul,
but being too ethereal to feel and touch;
is more ghost than a man.

Ever dancing to the rhythm of life
and yet not knowing the breeze;
I wonder, how tedious is your existence?
You who are compelled to walk another’s path
and yet denied the chance to taste
the fruit of that journey.

But to pity you would do you an injustice
for your presence is a source of comfort.
Never do you bow to the sun, or wind,
or feel compelled to yield to hunger.
Yours is the gift of elegant existence
flowing untouched by sorrow.

For you who exist in defiance of light
will never need to fear the seasons,
or be forgotten like words blowing in the wind.
How strange that you defy the eternal sun
only to succumb to the transient night,
and yet your existence is most poetic.

For you live beyond the reach of love and yet are in tuned
to its every move, its every gesture and its every pose.
How proud you stand oblivious to the wind
and graceful you drift through the turmoil that is life.
Were I denied my moment to bask in the joyous sun
I feel that I too would choose to be as you.

across empty space



Since when did darkness swear to forgive the soul?
No, you’re mistaken, not in this life was set, this goal.
For darkness cares not for light of day,
Does not wish to see our souls at play.
Born before the tick of time.
To it brightness and colour are but a crime.
Never did it wish to see the light of day.
Caring not what light would say.
Seeing colours adorn the earth and sky,
Darkness you will hear with thunder cry.
Only when in gloom our head do rest,
And with darkness dwell at his bequest.
That we see his mirthful smile
Seeking to our soul, beguile.
Be not content to listen to his idle words,
Or he will bind you to his mindless herds.
Darkness is ever mournful of the silent lost,
Dreams and schemes of bringing back the frost.
Watching light across the fabric of space expand,
Its endless colours and growth he seeks to ban.
Only wishing utter darkness to grace his face,
That’s why with light he seeks to race.
With determination and patience, light he will resist,
As he knows well that even light cannot persist.
But don’t lose heart with what I say,
Remember time will do its best to bar his way-
Leaving more than enough time for us to play.

J M Lysun

Cold of winter



If only the cold wind would die down,
And I could be left free from the torment.

Cold, cold is the bitter winter month.
Dark, dark is its mood.

Howling and full of chill,
It speaks of concealing the warmth of the sun
And laying low, the once fertile land.
Devoid of character, all is white.

White, white is the blanket that covers everything.
Bright, bright is its reflection in the day.

Inviting and playful and yet suffocating.
Glistening though it might be in the sun,
In the dark of winter it is merciless and treacherous,
Offering little comfort to the unwary and unprepared.

Silent, silent is the winter as it spreads and freezes hearts and souls.
Death, Death is what it brings.

Buried from the nourishing light all must wither, sleep or perish.
No more to grow but to weep until the end of winter.
Drawing strength from the certainty that winter too will pass away.
And in its wake will come rebirth and light; the seed of life.



J M Lysun

Black Panther


Black panther

Black Panther hunter of the night,
what manner of beast are you,
that you are both revered and feared by men?

Are you merely a legend?
A shadow in the night?
Are your unearthly feats recited just to inspire fright?

Some call you the great defender
and others terror of the night.
Which of this true?
Which of this is you?

Devourer of infinite light,
master of silence.
If in this world you do exist,
why did God create you great like this?
With all this might;
you swim,
you climb,
with movements quite sublime.
Blessed with paws so strong,
teeth so long,
that none can hope to match you
let alone catch you.

Why is it that from darkness you appear
and at your whim can disappear?
You make me wonder,
and even ponder;
If you’re merely a trick of light,
what manner of magic keeps you out of sight?
How Is it that you inspire fear without even being near?

Oh, terror of night.
Sleek and slender.
Mighty defender.

What manner of beast are you?



J M Lysun

Self Esteem


Self esteem

As a flower ready to bloom,
I dare not open too soon.

My fragile petals I need to protect,
Of my essence, I don’t want predators to detect.

I am not yet ready.

How can I compare to the summer bloom,
The skies above and the magnificent creatures down below?

I am nothing more than a bud waiting to flower,
And not the freshest, nor the most beautiful.

I wish I was rosier, my petals larger.
I wish my stem was longer
And my colours more vibrant in the sun.

So many things are not what they should be.
So many things are wrong with me.

And yet they tell me I’m so precious.
How can this be?

Oh, my sister why can’t you be like me?

Unlike you, I can’t wait to unfold and be out in the world.

I’m so beautiful and light,
My colours are radiant and bright.

Nothing compares to me.
I’m the ultimate sight.

Can you not see how my stem stands tall?
How my petals are ready and perfectly formed?

These creatures down below they worship me
And the colour of sky pales above.

I am the most expensive and sought after orchid, money can buy.
Of what I say, I do not lie.

… wait a minute, if I’m not mistaken, we’re twins!
What I say of me must be true of you!

By J M Lysun




With time and space I race,
streaking across your face.
The wind is behind me, clearly giving chase.

Away, I go in full flow.
No shadow will I show.

Though darkness is my companion,
where I journey, all is revealed.

There are many articles written that say I am a particle
but I do not care for with a wave I go.

Though, I must yield to the mass with great gravity.
I am as free as can be.

My aura makes all things in my path visible.
But time limits my existence.
For in time, I will fade.


— J M Lysun —

Copyright © 2014 J M Lysun. All Rights Reserved.