Flowers mill about
The field of conceited sunlight.

For pleasure?
For knowledge?
No,
Forsworn.

Scattered across countless blades,
Sliding over the glinting steel.
All I can see is my touch and feel,
But what lies between these
I cannot take as real.

Maybe life
Just wants me to suffer.
It’s not like anybody ****** up,
Because I’m already ****** up.

Maybe cool metal
Can freeze my sunburt arms...

A citric eastern breeze
Beckons in frosted waves.
A mosaic of spectral sun
Drawn upon the fractured glass.
Surf exploding onto rocks
Like the trillions of stars
Now twinkling,
At twilight.

As a paper gets torn
Fragments are created
Only to be lost from sight

And from mind.

As ink brands a paper, art,
A tear brands a paper,
As nothing more than a lost fragment

Over smoke and grit,
Floating into nothingness,
Ashes fly their heated cycle.

An end lying in wait,
Through the endless detours
That construct a draft
Of our human life.

Maybe if I become the bird
To break the egg;
The world,

I’ll shatter the ice locking
My heart in place.

Throwing off these chains
Of human connection,
And hatching into a dove.

Summoned stars
Shining in a frigid world.
They’re so cold
So lay your hands on me;
I’ll feel alive.

Dancing to the music
Which has long ended,
Static replaces
The now distorted confusion
Leaving a shimmering illusion.

Forgetfulness is an imperfect crime,
And so I truly am
Everywhere at the end of time.

What ails these sorry veins,
Plaguing the mind and soul alike?
Boiling blood, sores and pains,
Killing what’s left of life.

Maybe rubies are all I need;
To make a mark and watch it bleed.

The twilight mist veils the world
As the graceful stars
Turn to faltering street lamps.

A constricted world,
Nothing lies beyond
My dwindling vision.

Are you happy
Now that the bird is caged?

Like dancing lights
And fluttering sprites;
Multiplying together
And dividing apart.

They rend the veil of night,
Creating a short-lived spectacle
Before these stars take flight.

Assumptions.
Closing doors to negotiation.

Assumptions.
Fabricating half truths
On baseless knowledge.

Assumptions.
Hurting hearts and souls alike.

As life draws its thinning line,
A darkness falls behind closed doors.
A creation of which mankind abhors,
Destroyed through the course
Of our destructive mental wars.

The white blanket recedes
Revealing a jade carpet.
Snow comes,
And snow goes.

It’s a youthful romance
Of heaven and earth.

Icen fingers
And burning napes.

Winter is moving closer,
And when all’s said and done,
Life still continues.

Even if we’ve all been stopped
For many months.

Gentle white outlines,
Glittering in the gaze.

A hanging breath
Coating the air
Like a newborn’s blanket.

A frosted world,
Sweet,
Sour,
And all that lies between.

False whispers
Sounding alarms,
Poisoning the will;
Drowning the ill.

Pulling you down
Just to push you up,
And burrow inside you,
To be a viciously vicarious
Vile remnant
Of whats long gone.

Spiraling through the sharpened skies,
Slicing at the wind
With a blade sharper than air.
We say all’s fair,
But with a corrupt mind and body
Do I have any right to endorse it?

In a world of bladed air,
The act of falling
Hurts more than the impact.

The stars all look brighter in the sky
Sometimes i get so lonely I could—

The darkest flares
Burn within the brightest bonfires.

All the sighing ashes disappear,
Worries drowned out in my own fear.
An endless void lies inside their mind.
Any more defiance and I’ll go blind.

Leave me to be
For a lifetime now lost,
We all lived our wasted lives,
Until the cat’s path is crossed.

When time unveils it’s trickery,
The moon will show it’s hidden face.
We are all under the countless stars,
All are in the worldly compass of greed.

As the creeping doubt
Draws shadows of trees
Onto my mind’s canvas,
I silently look away,
Wishing the water’s reflection
Could distract me.

Rippling across the surface;
Distorting what I see.
The inkwell’s matte mirror
Changing what I’m to be.

A step to a wade,
Shivering water
Will always shine.
Even if the day is done,
Even if you can’t run.

As darkness falls
The world becomes a shroud,
In which the smallest lights
Beckon forth
A sea of illumination.

Thinning grains of silky sand
Slip beneath my shoes,
Undisturbed by the light breeze.

Grass stands, the opposite;
Sprouting out of the sand,
To be fumbled by the wind.
It’s slightly toasted gold
Radiating through the shade,
As if touched by fire’s kiss.

The world, in and of itself
Encompassed by a setting sun’s hug;
It’s resonating auburn arms
Spanning the pastel horizon.

As the endless expanse
Stretches itself before my eyes,
Flickering lights create depth.

All that lies between
Is the iridescence of our sunset,
And the fragrance of our universe.

Fluorescent shadows
Quake on the concrete.
Like autumn leaves
In a solitary plain,
The ****** and disappear.

Shadows of men I don’t see,
I guess they’ll always be there,
Haunting me.

A violent struggle for air,
Lasts like a star’s radiant flare.
As the void turns to ashes,
Breath resumes control;
A frozen silencer thawed dry.

Don’t go
You’re leaving me
To the endless flow.
You preach destruction,
But the sands of time still stand,
a subtly worse construction.

Streaks of rose-gold radiance
Elevate the scarlet plateau.
Through watching skies,
And ethereal cries,
The peak of the world draws near.

When all’s said for all to hear,
A hidden motive is made clear.
There’s no reigning power
As pervading as our fear.

Spreading wings
And releasing feathers,
The dove flies through
A ring of flame.

The scroll of negotiation
Unscathed by the battlefield.

Within shining walls,
He lies on opulence.
If only time was kind enough
To let him lie forever.

In the end,
He has to stand.
In the end,
Time beckons forgetfulness.

As you drift away
Like a long-forgotten shirt;
Growing yellow on the clothesline,
I stand,
Immobilized and Immortalized
Within the reaper’s ace of spades.

Steady,
monotonous,
And visceral;
My heartbeat rages on.

A sleepless night ahead
With no rhyme nor reason
To back my nervous season.

Weaving through the static noise,
Black and White fills the void.
Inside my mind, I put away the toys;
For all is not yet destroyed.

The sun’s main flame
Appears to glow tame,
But life’s never that docile.
Peace will always take awhile.

“Not all things are made
To survive becoming past”
I thumb the cold blade,
Knowing this won’t last.

“Peace residing
Within the art of war”
Inside the cracks I’m hiding;
While my mind’s on tour.

“Within emotion
Lies our charred corruption.”
A mental explosion;
And a civil war’s eruption.

The silence was inevitable, however, the light she shone soon became their harmony.

I’m the whisper
Among the piercing scream;
The subtle vertigo
Of an early morning dream.

I’m the darkest burning star;
Your wandering mind
When you’ve gone too far.

I’m the voice you could not hear;
The voice you should not fear.
Advice that most abhor,
Given with an air of valor.

Don’t follow my whispered suggestions,
All it becomes is bad recollections.

A lash of autumn wind slices at the skin,
a gentle yet firm reminder of nature's harsh personality.
With the whip arises a spray of icy water,
Its bleak gray sheen housing an unparalleled vibrancy.

The drifting tides churn in wonder and expectation,
bringing this once still and silent slate
to a monochromatic spectrum.

Cleaving through the stilling silence,
Like an ocean’s crushing roar.
The dulling gray sky
Becomes a lightless void
With a scream of defiance,
Splitting the essence of noise.

Left with a silence so warm,
But it’s just the calm before the storm.

Silence calls for dusks final breath
As we say farewell to sight
And lay our bodies to rest.

Our minds, however,
Live nocturnal,
Like our souls—
Living, eternal.

Laying newfound gemstones
Upon the fields of springtime citrus,
The sun rises once again.

We are here to witness
As the earth’s moonlight visage
Is burned away by the rising fire,
Leaving us free to start anew.

As we make this mess whole,
We look into the distance, intoxicated
By the silent, corrupt vessel.
A terror once prominent, now abated.

A sickness soon to grow,
But the infection has long sat, dormant.
Break the dam, beckon in the flow,
And watch as we sing our silent lament.

Fuzzy nightmares,
And lurking daydreams.
Hiding from the ends
That justify my means.

It’s all led me astray
There’s always another day,
But there’s always debts...
Which I need to repay.

Life makes us bitter,
But with wings a flutter,
We soar.

Above the teardrops
Sitting like morning dew
In the naked eyes
Of our beholder;
We stay afloat,
And delightfully aglow.

As the clock continues
Its everlasting tick,
The candle begins to sing.
Weaving words of spider silk,
Leaving a trail of scentless smoke
Through the silent night.

Whispers follow me,
Muttering their taunting mirthful cry.
I listen from my liar’s chair,
Too far gone to care.

Smothered voices sing to me,
Calling out my name
Through distorted chords.

I have no lips to speak of,
No eyes to embrace the world;
Only these silent ears,
Listening to my tormentors fears.

As we listen to the silence,
A world of noise
Populates our barren mind.

We bring life
To the once subdued void,
Only to ***** it out
Like a whimpering candle
When we inevitably forget.

A frozen visage,
Steeled through an eternal cowardice.
Stripped of glimmer and glory,
Your meek egotistical values
Lie in pieces; devoid of glory.

Words spoken a the edge of a cliff,
Fabricating the final push.
The spiral lies below,
So just take the final blow.