Mardigal of solitude…

Be no proud; lay no rose, Ov’r the pages written by wraith, Nude by thy sable garb woes; In the brimes of sleepless nights i bathe. I call to i; beget my words, Let i write the ink of fine, Scatt'rred smile of perjured lust; On purpose laid to sweeten a whine. On dreary love... Continue Reading →

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Abysmal i:

In the time of my era, The saga; i won't, And the blood beseeched, Dripped over eyes, your throat. For the sake of sun, The flower, i made the rose, Believe me, don't teach, I am a jungle; died prose. As bright as my darkness, As light as my will, As weak as my heart,... Continue Reading →

In the Mist of Certain..

In the deep blueness of the sky, there lays untold stories, stories once have heard by the dark. Isn't it beautiful that, everyday day sun dies to let the moon live? Light dies or call it sacrifice; to let the somber come to life, to tell us the new saga , to make us feel... Continue Reading →

Midway..

In the mist of certain, I stand alone, Fathomed me: none, Am i that why? Espy: beneath, Beautiful i feel, I know the Death you create. For i feel, beneath. We stand together, Again in the mist, Mist: lifeless breath, Speaks to unsaid. Lived in ellipse, But: fire dies, Removed i am twice, By the... Continue Reading →

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