I was a mythical creature once.

I lived in a small picturesque town
next to a little hole of blue water.

I sang the sweetest songs.

Mortal man never heard the like before.
They wandered by to listen very often.

They say my feathers fairly sparkled
and if the sun lived closer he might outshine me.

There was darkness that the feathers covered.
No one could tell what destruction lurked beneath.

But I lived to sing that song.
Morning, noon and night. I put my heart in it.
I never faltered, but once

and I looked in the placid lake to see my own reflection.
The monster that looked back at me grinned
at my surprise.
The darkness laughed out loud.

And I did nothing but climb that tall live oak.
As close as I could get to the sun
and I built my nest with twigs.

I lined it with bits of color, silken scraps
to echo my plumage.
And I lined it with sweet-smelling spices
cinnamon and lavender and myrrh.

And then I sang my best last song
'til the suns rays came too, too close.

I kept singing til my last breath was ash
until the day that I will begin again.

"Is it me Juliet or are you responding to my fret,

Do you know that I love you?"

As he watched her pluck a flower

He wondered if all dreams must turn sour,

If he, only had the power

To lock love in a tower

And forever save an hour in time

He knew that love could always shine

And families, life not matter much

For surely all sweet dreams are made of such.

don't forget that you'll never truly belong to me,
just like how the shore never truly belong to the ocean.

no matter how many times they collide,

they're destined to be apart.

I wanted to paint,
A trail of red,
Down your chest
leaving nothing but,
The stain of my lips,
To lay in contrast,
To your fair skin.
You brought forth,
A pallette in my eyes,
Birthed within a new,
Sight of purples,
Left behind,
By the lost ramblings,
I drown in after ***.

December , tripping on mushrooms , locked on a dragonfly after my easy heart . Songbird fantasia , on stage against the background of suburbia , singing melancholy ballads , each chorus more beautiful than the last ..
Lady Killdeer , I'm in touch with your spin on the world , Mother Ocean , I'm your witness at the edge of the Earth ..
Winter in anguish with the Gulf breeze , two lovers doomed to repeat the same offense .. Reprieve from wicked mornings by oneself , for Pisces , she's inconsolable again in the house of Sagittarius ..

As Hermes once took to his feathers light,
When lulled Argus, baffled, swooned and slept,
So on a Delphic reed, my idle spright
So played, so charmed, so conquered, so bereft
The dragon-world of all its hundred eyes;
And seeing it asleep, so fled away,
Not to pure Ida with its snow-cold skies,
Nor unto Tempe, where Jove grieved a day;
But to that second circle of sad Hell,
Where in the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw
Of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell
Their sorrows. Pale were the sweet lips I saw,
Pale were the lips I kissed, and fair the form
I floated with, about that melancholy storm.