When one sings to the music of the soul, a ballad takes birth. Ballad is a form of verse, woven in a narrative set to music. This form of poetry derived from the medieval French chanson balladée or ballade, which means “dancing songs”. Ballads were originally written to accompany dances, and so were composed in couplets with refrains in alternate lines. So sing and set your poetic soul free with these beautiful ballads.
Almighty! Almighty! Grant us each other’s love Grant us Unity Almighty! Almighty! We are you, you are we One commUNITY Almighty! Make me an instrument Of your will Almighty! ‘Til my prayers for peace Are fulfilled Precious Yahweh! To the
Twenty score years ago, and some The evil merchants crossed the waves Gleeful as they raped and pillaged Their cargoes of dark-skinned slaves En route to the land of Liberty Where all men are created equal In their most frightening
Strangers meet, merge their lives Shadows fade… Time revives the highs of life Dreams renew, nightmares die Two hearts may find that life provides… A refuge from their strife Old wounds heal, when life reveals What kindred spirits share Tears
The fear is creeping inside with every single step I take Seems like everyone is going to hurt and their sympathies are fake With broken dreams and a heavy heart, I still hope to find solace Though in the past,
Played in the hills of another world`s land, Spent the nights reading in my room but always dreamed about lying in the sand. Then one evening between 15th and 17th of July, With his wings so heavy and attire so
All my walls are taken down, Nothing but little pieces of rubble, And I try to pick them up, But I fall down myself in a puddle; A puddle of hatred, of ribbing I’m broken and completely inside, I’m stupid,
I shrivel ‘neath a scorching sun, Devoid protection for my skin, An aching grimace, I’ll show none, Worse burning pain suppurates within. I wander naked through the rain, Although my body fully clothed, This broken love ne’er to regain, Only
Well I made mistakes. I said some things. Honey, I was wrong. I shouldn’t drink. I didn’t think, is what you could have said or done. But instead you walk away, said “you can’t stay,” and now you’re gone. And
Bloodshot eyes in heads so wise, they queued outside the door The men whose work began right there, at Tommy’s on the moor. Hands thrust deep in pockets to betray the shaking bones Of weather-beaten fingers whence they laboured sand
Our love came in the absence of rain. The avocado growers struggled while we grew with the rising temperature. 92, 97, 113 degrees fahrenheit… Not hot enough. We hid in dried out pools. We showered together to save water. We
I can never betray you for sure, Neither can leave you this way, For you are the one who taught me everything And nothing what I’m today. Everyone believes praying is a must, But I say that’s just a trust.
This is the tale that seldom gets told But remains as a legend to us all getting old. Its subject is rooted in seedy old bars And con-men who waved from their ill-gotten cars. So many people, their age-range diverse,
All seems normal Perhaps it’s so too. Yet there is a missing sting Of a blank. Or is it a mirage? Hopes and wishes Converge in tandem A tinge of bliss breathes With no clear touch A drop of deprivation
Two people met, accidentally. With no rhyme or reason, Not knowing where to begin, Unsure what to hold as conversation. Just when the silence was getting unbearable, There was a klink on the glass window. Slow drizzle of words poured
When that drop came to see you my heaven was just that tear Just my conscience could smell you without the nose which was already taken My heart beat just stopped like the ruined clock in your room My legs