Arts destruction

Flames flicker painting dancing shadows Puppet shows on ruined walls Marionettes of the long lifeless Carnage lining the street like abstract art Grisly stories told by each bodily mutilation All observed in the grayed lifeless eyes of the beholder

Notes to an end

Waltzing on days end Dancing to an apocalyptic trend Swaying to musical destruction Beats in tune to a musical obliteration Bodies dropping with operatic sonatas The entire world an audience in its annihilation

Cheesy Romance

A bland day breached by a sudden meteoric meet. Sparkling eyes bringing heralded days to gloom-ridden nights Dazzling saccharine smiles lifting aged crumbled spirits Tinkling lambent laughs releasing fluttering butterflies making hearts salubriously beat aflutter.

Rainy Days

On rainy days with cloudy skies with sauntering steps and shoulders slumped. Paths with grinding gravel trivially tread. Towards hospitable prison, once an amicable abode. Sharing house and hold with prattling pixies and trudgen trifling trolls. All to bring livid life to insatiable insanity.

I miss you

I miss the endless blue. The way it felt like I could reach out and grasp you. The way you were windswept in white. I miss seeing you caressed in rainbows of red. Dressed in stormy greys on rainy days, ready to cry. On days like these, I miss the sky.

Lost in your ocean

There are days when I drown in your gaze. Not able to find the surface. There are days that I lay stranded in shallow water left washed in by the tide waiting for you to carry me back out to sea. There are days where I'm stuck in the sand keeping me away from you. Finally, there are some moonlit nights where I'm floating in our deep blue sea content and free.

Poet's Body

A heart beating in time with a creative soul pumping articulate words through robust veins. Creating a exemplary paradigm of pulsating views bounding across the skin. Building hard bound coils of expressive ideas leaping with musuclar power. All driven by a imaginative conglomerate of grey matter.

Heart

A heart caked in ash yet to heat. Smothered from the soot from a burned out mind. A heart strangled from its plastered edges. Slowly fading with each futility. A heart that knows no end. Till it can beat again.

A Reminder

Love now for later we all embrace in death.

Fear His Scythe

A rattle of bones. 

A rap on your door. 

A cold breath fearing fate. 

A panicked hustle to escape. 

A realization that it's too late. 

Death has come a'knocking. 

What hides with the pitch.

It grows with the setting sun but dies with dusk. Anchored by those who tread. Stuck to this world, tethered til night. Escaping with the creeping darkness. Finally free, free to roam the pitch world. Free till the morn. With the rise, their freedom gone.

Something Lost

A yearnful feeling for something long lost and gone. A shape and glimmer reminding you of the pain. A pain rooted in the bottom of the heart, in the back of the mind. A dull throb sedated by being occupied. A sudden torrent that sweeps down when least expected. Carrying me out to sea.

Madness

The twisted arachnid slowly creeps into the mind. Making its lair deep inside. Day by day its gnarled appendages spread further and the corruption taints more. A laugh gradually morphing into a cackle. A smile growing akin to the Cheshire. The eyes turning wicked. The body adopting a crazed twitch. All this while descending into madness.

The Hidden

Sometimes hidden things are all the more inspiring. Just like a spring after a desolate winter. Sometimes an earnest smile from a person hiding behind walls is more illuminating than a beam of earthbound light amidst the chilled rain. Sometimes that creeping laugh that turns into a rolling and bounding laughter is a euphoric rush of warm sensations, even when you're lying at among bedrock. Sometimes those hidden can heal wounds long since scared to the exterior.

Genocide of Beautiful Minds, Healing of the Maligned.

A dictionary, the arsenal of weapons used to commit mass genocide of beautiful minds. A sentence laying the foundation for a mass burial ground. A word a bullet used to blow away any self-confidence . A syllable the push of the final fall. Words can be a source of light in an endless night or an introduction to a bottomless chasm void of all illumination. Sentences the bandages to prior wounds or a blade to disembowel. Speeches the healing of the maligned.

A View On Death

Death brings an ultimate fear. A quake to rattle souls. Death is a sentence. At times brought by a crying plea. Death is a worry. For those it leaves abandoned. Death is an end. A conclusion to a story not yet fully told.

A Poem Dedicated To The My Lai Massacre (From the villagers p.o.v)

A day where the sky rained fire. As if the clouds were dragons that craved our homes in ruins, our flesh charred and blood boiling. A day where the air was our predator. A beast of pure gluttony with its screeching speed and teeth hidden mid air that tearing flesh and ending lives. A day where those that played with our children left them filled with holes lying in a pool of semi-coagulated blood. As if a creature made from pure terror burrowed through their bodies and took their souls away.  A day of reckoning. As if the devil himself wanted our lives and sent his demons to reap our flesh and steal our futures. A day where friend turned to foe. A day almost lost to history.