I wonder what it feels like
To be unwritten -- a thought
An idea striving to be inscribed
To be something that never was
And probably never will be.

I wonder about their fate.
Do they leave for another mind
Devoid of creativity or otherwise
Or stay there, eternally waiting
Locked-up in imagination limbo?

Are they just there, sitting
In the cold corners of my mind
Stuck midway between the sulci
Wilting into imagiary nothingness
Or struggling to become a reality?

What makes a thought complete?
Are they sewn up together in threads
Of liquor and crazed insobriety,
Patched up with deathless dreams
For the sake of being written?

I wonder what if feels like
To be written and yet incomplete
The half-thoughts on paper
Mixed up with other half-thoughts
In an indecipherable jumble

Maybe that's what I'm lacking
New beginnings, laughter, love,
Happy endings, there's a limit
To what experience allows me
To write or, to an extent, feign.

I speak for the voices left behind
The voices of long slewn ideas
Placed at the back of my mind
Ideas long crushed beneath
Countless writer's blocks

But they live on, they haunt me
In my waking, they still do
Like long forgotten feelings
And the fleeting personas
I never want to go back to.

After all, they were me,
These thoughts and ideas,
Or at least part of me,
For that one instance.
I wonder.

A tattered soul journeys.
Awaken the sleeping gods.
Jaded fragments of the whole.

Moonlight trickles down.
Smell of burning amber.
The night deflowered.

A fluorescent bolt.
The dismal void crackles.
Lightning brands the sky.

Supine on porcelain.
In a mesmer of cold.
Sensations surge.

Blankly whispering eyes.
Tracing the cracks.
A starless ceiling.

Music snakes about.
A dreary tangle.
Rhyme and melody.

Sober thoughts clamour.
Awash with miasma .
Sordid with memories.

Slivers of imagination.
Mares in the shadow.
My dire soul slumbers.

Emotions at the gallows.
Staircase spirit dialogues.
Coffee cup delusions.

Jaded fragments of the whole.
Awaken the sleeping gods.
A tattered soul journeys.

I dreamed a dream of you
In countless grains of sand
Along forgotten shores
And distant memories

I watched the ocean
In its infinite mesmer
Under a blanket of stars
That never blinked

The storm clouds brewed
Rolled out like the truth
Cold lightning frolicked
And silent thunder rang

I watched the ocean again
As it crashed upon the coast
I knew even in my dreams
We stood on distant shores

The sun has long since set
The night, too, has died
Daybreak will come soon
Over cracked horizons

Trees rustle with the passing wind
As starlight glints the moonless sky.
The trail I trek twists and meanders
To where morrow greets the dawn.

I stop amidst the noise and haste
To ponder my unsilenced thoughts.
Shall I continue along these roads
Or turn tail and come running back?

I know not where the path leads me
Or if my travels shall have an end.
The stars will be my guide tonight
As shadows follow suit my sole

The road before me stretches far,
Uncertainty lingering at every turn.
But though the past beckons me
I know in my heart I must move on.

Sleep visited me one night
Her body as cold as sleet
Light seeping from her being



Sleep visited me last night
Woke me, and fell upon me
Her life splayed over mine

Moon and starlight bled
Murdered by dawn's arousal
A discarded corpse of night


Death and dreams called out
In riddles and nightmares
Sleep was not the only one

Who died a death that night.