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Oh, oh, our Earth is in little known space,
The lesser of two evils within blue and land,
ALAS, the night so grown is but bitter,
Glory of Earth is our darling of the Sun,
This muse who says there’s no number on Earth,
A little song I can with battle in haste by word,
Delight in sombre, in coldness, in darkness, he came,
The avofaunal triumphs shall together away but fade.
The humans; he and she, shall banish all hate and love,
All hate and love indeed giv’n, giv’n in more the air,
You, whom we shall name as sum of pains and pleasures known.
Withstood are honours and passions through this we ere
Say are but music for challenges known are better grown,
Till all things known are slowly piled into utmost calm.
To vanish from eye of foreign vessel or mutual fair,
Given my faith to thee, shall serve and better part.

Finding Myself again

At some point I decided to enter a spherical room covered in a single mirror. At the epicentre of the sphere at the bottom was a single light in circular shape. It illumined through a translucent glass which neither blinded nor shaped the way I feel at the very sight of my own reflection. I was imprisoned here. It was now my home. So it was, and so my ugly face was to blame; for my soul was trapped inside this feeble figure which I call a body which served no purpose whatsoever. Nor could I wed. Nor could I love. Nor could I hate. Nor could I live. I wanted to die. I wanted to suddenly disappear. An hour would pass and I almost forgot how I entered this room or why I entered it in the first place. It was almost like an escape pod onboard a ship, in a distant star system; in this space, in this hour, half my life was kept, half my life shall rise again – so rise above the stars. The more I distance myself away from society, the more human I am; the more time I spend in the stars, the more I see myself for what I truly am. Read More

My Dear

And all ye who come and stay,
The muse that parts at bay,
This lint of cloth away
Could never pour my heart away,
In an ocean of tears I obey,
This lasting word I come to say: Read More

Beloved Hatred

She slaps to the left, to the right,
My love here is not worth the fight,
Mine hour in public is come for new,
In my glowed eyes her eye follows
Whilst one pitied and one in scorn,
Every day of life was reborn.
Echoes from the club were music,
Mine heart fused to beat off the wick
Ere light aflame my face how spat
Brought her arms on my neck now sat
By stronger force no man to defy that,
She offered tender words my true self, Read More

2D World

Rabbits sing through the lakes,
The signs are clear but none awake,
There’s a girl who’s still slamming,
My heart is wooden to that she damns,
Lock me in a room with god to judge,
But only I can stoop to nudge,
She wants roses to eat, thorns to scar,
She wants a knife to bleed, one too far,
Through a maze of veins ere they close,
She’ll mix a cup in time for daily dose, Read More

Wholesome Path

Across the room there were no curtains, not even a door. There were no lights, no windows, no bed nor a chair. Within the room there was the world that produced the world she bears. Who stands before a mirror how numb she is. More the world outside the mirror was still and void; more the world outside the room was so dark and cold. Here before the mirror visions of pain and remorse seeped through the walls that no flower could never grow. A salty sea would wash her away into the essence of that so painful. To and fro the seas descend into the room and traverse her into the most painful – no light to light her past for all to see, only to feel.

This mirror ere bespoke still stands, however long the waves crash, however strong the winds will tear her away. She still lives, still to see her walking through the waves. Every memory passes through each wave and shifts through day and night, not that it would matter where she was; no one would hear her; no one would see her. These memories that come to life with each breath, that with each breath her scars return; however mortal she is, her memories will remain immortal. Read More

Silent echo

I see within the dark a road,
Is but not a road,
A path that takes me hence from here,
Is but not in the slightest near,
I will fight to reach where I desire,
Take care yond of fire,
But it is not that I am sure to take,
For this was never fake,
But it is not that I am unable to take,
Who seeks which to take, but will you?
Shall I in fear be ought not to break,
Don’t you never brake. Read More