I must write these words quickly, for they will soon disappear.
A word is a funny thing. It makes a sound to utter or to write.
So, those out there can make sense of it all.
When they speak, they’re present for a fleeting moment,
and then they’re gone; absorbed into the atmosphere.
You cannot touch a word, but you can
feel it in your heart and see it in your mind.
There are trillions of spoken words piled up in the air.
They are in caves and mountains.
Many of them float atop the sea.
They lie on the floor of the forest, and the grass of the fields.
What are they trying to tell us?
They have no sound or physical form, but they are still there.
Can we gain understanding just by being still?
Will their stories seep into us?
They are in the foundations of ancient civilizations
where wind blew and the sand covered them up.
They are layered throughout the ground like fossils.
You cannot see them, but they are there.
Walk outside or to an ancient place.
Be as still as you can. Use all your senses:
Taste, Smell, touch, sound and sight. Let the words surround you.
Let them sink in. Allow them to enter through your hands and your feet.
Let them in your ears, your mouth, and your heart.
Now take them. Take them back with you and write them down.
Write them down so they can experience rebirth.
So, they have purpose again.
But write them down quickly, for they will soon disappear.
Dec 7, 2025
Dec 7, 2025 at 3:47 PM UTC
Act I
Cassandra twirled like her feet were wrapped in satin
Smooth and flawless like her appearance
Her gift of movement sent from one of nine muses
her purpose drifted in like the waltz of a first love
to dance was to breathe oxygen into her lungs
Her love overflowed to everyone around her
she didn’t distinguish between love and dance
Masses surrounded her in awe of her gift
She danced for love not for esteem
She could dance for none and forever on
If dance were to become transcendent, she would be the pioneer
Act II
On rare occasions fate can tear like sheer fabric against a nail
A simple crack in the floor altered her eternity
She flew through the air with poise and grace
She landed on pain and despair like broken glass
She always thought life was over when you meet death
No no, life is at an end when you lose love
Cassandra’s life was over, nevertheless she still drew breath
Darkness filled her heart and all she could see was grey
ACT III
Your insides can rot when you discover there is no one to save you
Not everyone gets a hero or a second chance
The world’s focus is on those who get saved and their inspiring stories
Not everyone has a happy ending or even an ending at all
Cassandra wished she would end
But her story seems never ending
Always will she stand in the shadows and stare at the dance hall
Living in her past forever
END
Pain is all she has left in her forgone existence
So she will feed the inferno that is her brokenness
And she will starve her desires
Her lack of hope will crack the stone beneath her feet
she will climb in and lay there
Looking up at her end
Stuck between death and the desire for something worse.
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 12:06 PM UTC
I am in love with her
But I don’t even know her name
I long for reciprocity
But I know she doesn’t feel the same
Where can I wonder from here
My body can move by pace
My mind and soul are blurred
And my heart is stationary in this race
When will you love me
I will always be here
When will you love me
I lay in a black void without fear
Apathetic blinders I wear
Pathetic in my optimistic belief
I will remain in my own darkness
Do not comfort me I will seek no relief
Stop telling me they will come around
You do not know the god **** source
Effort has been removed from my bones
I am ****** I refuse to stay the course
Nov 12, 2025
Nov 12, 2025 at 2:04 PM UTC
The grey Themes flows like molasses
Key figures bustle about the impending law
Like ants on a crumb of coffee cake
What seemed so important on that dark day
Flutters past like wind through a forgotten rake
What is more treasured than this entanglement?
The men with insipid wigs evidently
The public does not compare to Parliament
Bicker until your tongues swell into pink sausages
Time is a hair, caught on a nail in a plank, laying in the field
Insomuch as your ignorance to the turnshoes clacking underneath you
The porcelain haired fellows unfortunate to yield
Barrels of whiskey they are not
It’s a keg of a different sort
Guy thinks the fight is worth being fought
To worship is to be free after all
In the minds of zealots that’s justification enough
It was free reign in Eden before the fall
There’s no formality strike the brimstone
Cognition upon the floor erupting beneath them
Cricket in the corner little black legs hone
Not insects, yet footsteps close
Law prevails no fireworks tonight
Religious freedom prevails? Who knows?
It was foiled, ruined by one member
Gunpowder plot posse found the gallows
Perhaps no one will remember the fifth of November
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 11:15 AM UTC
Death arises upon darkened wings
A personification of the ill most dreaded
Tradition suggests the blackest black toils solo
Black was never a hue but the absence of illumination
Intangible skull fixed upon an explicit destination
One entity to chaperon souls to eternity or damnation
Enter, the woman in white
Piercing light renders the eye useless
Just as blackness conjures the eye into non-existence
Death has not assistance nor counterpart
No, Nephthys brings death a competition
He does not revel in your demise
She’d rather pluck life from your heart
Not career or ambition
His is to duty, as hers is to ruin
Death does not hasten his arrival
For he is just the courier
Nephthys will strike you dead where you stand
Death follows the path of fate
She surges ahead of destiny to intercede
At the end of all things, Death will be consumed
And Nephthys will have her last meal
Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 12:56 PM UTC
She travels by a conspiracy of ravens
The unkindness soars undetected
Treachery raves from this grouping
She fears that which she harvests
Innocent humanities of youth
She cannot reap them without fatality
Horror to gaze upon this necessary evil
Her’s is a borrowed existence
A half-life is preferable to no life at all
She will never cease
But the sacrifice must be honored
For every stolen existence
She carries a red carnation to the peak
Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 12:51 PM UTC
Like emeralds that sparkle
Her eyes beg to be stolen
Black hollow caverns remain
Her words are so eloquent
They need to be locked away
Leaving her tongue severed
Laying stationary in a box
She is compelled to spite her face
Excise her nose, leaving dripping passage to her mind
Now that her face has betrayed her
She flies from the Arbors
With a razor wire noose
There is no one left
Who will incinerate her remains
The thief of origin
Has gained another trophy.
Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
A Small child has entered the doll display
His timing, just right they say
The dolls have long awaited this
A new friend was their intrepid wish
Little boy do not be afraid
We are but friends to be made
Wonderous thoughts filled the boy’s head
could this be real, or something to dread.
Just as real as you popped the tallest doll
By accident? or did you hear our call
I’m an orphan, you can tell by my face
Then take heart my boy, you’ve come to the right place
I will be your friend oh what a thrill
Wonderful boy, now please hold still
We will hold you down just for a bit
It wont take long, so please don’t throw a fit
A needle drilled through the skull, arms, and legs
Drilling is done, now insert the pegs
Don’t cry boy, you shall not perish
Soon you’ll see, it’s something to cherish
We’ll string you up to drain the blood
Then songs will be sung, and emotions will flood
It hurts please don’t do this to me
It cannot be undone, but we have heard your plea
I’ll tell no one, no not ever
It matters not, the effects last forever
Please, I am not an orphan. I lied
I have a family. They love me, he cried
Boy, we are your new family now
You cannot leave; we will not tell you how.
The boy began to breath faster and faster
It’s no use boy. For you now belong to the puppet master.
Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 12:43 PM UTC
She has a counterpart
Dark and dreary architype
Lucid dreams paralyzed flat
Your peripheral is no fool
Silhouette dons blackest of hat
Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 7:29 PM UTC
Being Alone is the absence of love
With love missing, care quickly follows
Self-annihilation ensues post haste
That makes one ripple
Gliding across all of the Earth
now subject to the butterfly effect
Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 7:24 PM UTC