Ever wondered what it seems
When the world aligns in one's favor
when things are right
Just to  disalign
As perfect becomes imperfect
As Like cosmics attract
Yet  alike
So the very compass of life be destroyed
That uttered sense makes no sense.

A writers one true inspiration comes from within
An inbuilt desire to pen down emotions
That their breath in form of words
Draw life into existence
Just like in the days past.

In tears I write
Sad my heart is
Lost I constantly find myself
Racing my thoughts go

Her name spelt out doom
With a chaotic beauty
That Loomed  in thoughts.
A complex crafty bomb-in self destruct,
In my  dreamy  world
Brought to live by law of attraction
In a place  unheard of .

She was a Filthy dreamer
That defiled flesh
A Tree whose fruit withereth
Twice dead
Plucked up by the roots.
                                          -Wordfugitive

She was one of those rare types
I called her a beautiful, frightened mess
A soul reaper she was
Yet so fragile at heart
With an intriguing *****
So tender to touch
a mouth filled with words unclear
Sweet nothings that enflame
Sweet touches that ignites
Too wise for lies
In my illusions she remains