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Literature
MOURNING'S PAST
Angel in the feathered light Eyes that mirror the soul Bone china porcelain skin Mirages in the clouds Red lanterns, candles in the wind Lunar rise the midnight sun Tears run to fall Bled colours black As the Heavens opened up Washing away the day Fashioned dreams of collages in the night
Literature
Musings
Did the world just awake? Turn within turn, who can say it may be both in truth when you think. For I fear more than death's gloomy hand. Who despite that touch so cold on skin is not so bad. Not so good either, but only that of nature. The truth can be most fickle, yes, not all is a math problem to be solved. One answer could unlock many questions while another can never be true no matter what. Better yet are the questions which seem to deny all answers. Everything could fit, but not so pleasingly enough in truth, well what then?
Literature
PULLED THE TRIGGER
The superficial An artificial high Synthetic lover A loaded syringe Orgasmic pills Fatal attraction Toxic blood Drug psychosis Ready to blow Wasted reality Arrested development A suicidal culture
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A little mood poetry from 5am, yesterday morning.
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13 days for/until what?