Sincerelylost

Your eyes are made of dark crystal and your mortal parts reminds my feeble soul why we were never meant to be holy.

Unholy

Why waste any second
when I could stare in your eyes
and watch it all unfold again
Slowly as time slips by
like a Chronicler.

The Chronicler

He sat down
by the bar with a bottle of 
whiskey.
And while the angels sang
he listened
to the preachings
of a crooked bartender
Whose days were filled with drunk forgotten nights,
and he knew
for first time
that he has
never felt more
close to God.