All posts by briankoome




I can’t stop, not for the scorching sun

Nor for the pouring rain

Not when it’s all in vain

Neither when I’m burdened with pain.

I can’t stop, not when memories fail to fade

Nor when sadness is all I gain

Not when solitude is all I fate

Nor when her beauty all carries away.

I can’t stop, not when all my energy I spend

I can’t stop, for I haven’t reached my journey’s end;

I can’t stop, for a broken heart I mend

I couldn’t stop, now my life is in shreds.

Now I keep moving for it’s all I have left

I keep moving for to love is to pretend

I keep moving for my journey is its end

And I’ll keep moving until the final farewell.


-Brian Koome-


Originally posted on, follow for more!



You can look but you won’t find me

Behind a mask that covers the insanity

I hide from the painful life that is reality

Where love is insane, and so is its ecstasy.

You can look but you won’t find me

I set sail into the wide open seas

Far away from all is where I long to be

‘Cause love is insane, and so is its ecstasy.

You can look but you won’t find me

I move with the birds and the winds

I live in my mind’s wildest dreams

Where love is sane, and so is its ecstasy.

You can look but you won’t find me

Because you don’t know what I seek

And you’re blind to what I see

That love is sane, and so is its ecstasy.

You can look but you will only find me

When you finally set your mind free

And from the bottom of your heart sing

That love is sane, and so is its ecstasy!


-Brian Koome-

originally posted at, follow for more!



What if I read to you a story,

starting: Once upon a time,

and you realised that it was your life,

spelt out on every line,

would you hear my voice with wonder,

as it brushed across each word,

and pray my arms had strength to hold,

the truth about your world,

would your view on life be different,

and would it shock you most to find,

that the things you thought most defined you,

could be summed up in just two lines,

and all the ones you took for granted,

the ins and outs of everyday,

play a bigger part in who you are,

than you’d ever dare to say,

would you wonder at the pages left,

and all the places that they’ll lead,

then vow to make each moment,

one that you’d be proud to read,

because there is a story of your life,

but it’s you that holds the pen,

and I hope you feel the pages right,

before you reach the end.


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Under the streetlight she waits

For the man she’ll embrace,

Joy on her face, a smile in place

And dressed in red, a color that bled,

She waits in silence for him on end.

Pulled by a horse, with seemingly little force

A chariot rolls by and he steps outside,

Fills her with ecstasy from his doubtless chivalry

As he whisks her into his arms with uncanny charm,

To the ball of the year, smiling from ear to ear.

Oh what elegance she displays as gently she sways

As she moves side to side with effortless pride,

In this parade, this beautiful masquerade

All she seems to impress, in her beautiful red dress,

With her they wish to dance, to stir a little romance.

From the crowd and noise they flee

To a place where they’re alone and free,

Silhouettes under a big fig tree

In each other’s arms they’re meant to be;

Him and her all alone in the night,

Oh what luck have I tonight.


-Brian Koome-

originally posted at



If I could open my eyes what would I see?

If I could be anyone who would I be?

Is there another reality I’d rather perceive?

Is there another life I’d rather live?

Would I see love in endless supply?

Through eyes behind which pain she hides.

Would I see suffering and demise?

In a heart that redemption hath not sufficed.

Would I be him that begs on the streets?

Living life simply because I exist.

Would I be him upon the throne that sits?

The world at his feet, to say the least.

Would I see the beauty of the sunset?

Under a beautiful mountain’s apex.

Would I have the same?

In my own mind’s pretext.

Would I rather the promise of love?

The pain of loss?

Or the joy of redemption?

Or would I have it all?

If I could open my eyes,

If I could live another life,

How would it be?

-Brian Koome-

originally posted on follow for more!



When I am old and the sun is setting on my time

The story untold shall slowly unfold,

Of times past and dyes cast

Of bridges crossed and others burnt.

I shall tell the tale while sitting upon the hill

As the sun fades and the sky grows stale,

I shall look into your eyes if for the first time

And tell of my prime when all was fine wine.

I shall tell of love and hate, the inescapable fate

Of solitude and pain that you cannot explain,

And I’ll shed a tear if for the first time

As I let you feel what lay in my mind.

The wind will blow as I tell my story

And the moon will glow in all its glory,

I shall light a fire to keep you warm

Because my story is a raging storm.

By hope I shall bring you clarity

Or you’ll think me an old man nearing insanity,

Be that as it may, promise me you will stay

That you’ll listen to my story and feed my vanity.


-Brian Koome-

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To the fair maiden he whispers,

To a place we’ll be together,

Leave with me now and regret you’ll never

For my love for you burns like ether.

To the fair maiden he says,

I want forever with you to stay

With you to cry and to play

This to my dear God I pray.

To the fair maiden he’d called,

Upon seeing her in the raging storm

I promise to love you, to keep you warm

You and our little newborn.

To the other side the fair maiden pilgrims,

He still talks to her in his painful dreams

Feels her touch in the morning breeze

Her tender kiss on his now dry lips.

To the fair maiden he whispers,

To a place we’ll be together

I’ll follow you and regret I’ll never

For our love burns like ether;

Diamonds; are forever.


-Brian Koome-

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