They dance like the spirits of the forest
Who sing of lavishness and death;
The cursed stars are their souls’ guest—
The gods shiver in their every breath.

They raise their hands to euphoria—
Discord released in floating sweat
That dissolves into flickering mania—
Fireflies in swarm hide the night’s net.

Like the sea waves they are washed down;
Like the reflections of light they are fractured cries;
Visions and senses are the fragmented crown
Of the paper world behind their shrouded eyes.

I live through your breath;
Death is my only carriage;
Heavens and hells, we travel
and dare seek the freedom of sin.

The night around me breathes you,
Choking my throat with lonely thoughts;
The cityscape has the sparks of your eyes,
Blinding me with longing memories.

I wish the wind drags your caress here
So I might paint my whole body with it,
So it might lock me in its deadly jaws,
So you might kiss my wayward crown.

But you float like a golden feather
And my arm can only reach too far—
I howl into the good night
Though I know I’m a twilight late.

Death lay beside my corpse;
And with a tear in his eye
He kissed my cold crown—
Never have I felt so alive!

They that seek the pollen of the night,
The moon of which they blame for the end of days,
Let the shades be pleasure of the sight,
And heaven be found in the colourless rays.

I fall into my knees beneath your feet—
What mistake I shall keep in my book,
One which your letters weather every sheet
And your words even divine eyes be afraid to look.

The fleeting moments
Where we both converge as one,
I could not go as high as we’re meant
For I be burned if I reach too close to the sun.

Life haunts me tonight,
Even Death could not steal me to sleep
Wet blurs are my weary sight,
Underwater— til morning I am in deep.

Pull me in and hold me close,
Things sometimes ain’t we suppose,
Certainties we cannot know,
But with this love we’re kept afloat.

You are chaos
In the heart of stillness,
I want to be part of your soul
And so chaos I become.

There is a fire in you
Which lights the whole world
And burns to such degree
Even that of hell became candlelight.

The distance of air between us
Marks the hollowness in me,
But from whence it blows
Keeps me sane and afloat.

I dug a grave and offered myself,
With this love, I could never regret,
The sun in your eyes, spring in your words,
Winter in your kiss, what is worse?

This love is too whole for me,
When I feel I cannot breathe,
My chest— it cannot restrain,
Forever I’ll be in this heavy chain.

There was blood on my hands,
And I saw dancing figures on my ceiling.
They then whisper for neatness
But a sad smile was all I could offer.

There was once a fly
That flew about.
Fly was all it knew,
And so only fly it did.

Oh, the fickleness of truth!
Only does it serve us that we serve it.
Oh, the fickleness of truth!
Only does it maim us that we maim it.

I killed to soar,
I sinned seeking life,
I grew moth wings for
Whatever death may find
In me that is more
Than what is right.

Come sing me a ****** song
From your prayer book;
I do not wish to be gone
But love of death was all it took.

I nurtured an old tree
On an obsidian hill,
Where the moon is in chains
And the leaves in chase of wind.

of gods and monsters we were made;
by summer and tempest we were risen;
of green grass and black mountains we were moulded--
such two-souled beasts men are!

what passion do i have,
what hatred do i keep,
what love do i treasure,
the recipient of all, i know not--
let it be who, let it be what,
let it be for none, i care not;
for they rage inside me,
they lash and scream,
they grow flowers in my trail,
they let burn all i touch,
and it is beautiful.

Wayfarer, merely I am--
In pursuit of hidden memories
Of the world and the stars.
My feet shall not go weary
Chasing the blinding light
That seems forever peeking
Over the purple mountains--
I take one step forth
And the horizon takes two back.
My hands shall not go weary
Reaching for the hanging fruit
That seems so close to touch
Yet so far to grab with whole hand--
Such is the vicious fate of a wayfarer!

My most insidious one,
How dark my days were
When you floated along
The river of the forgotten.
Memories fall like ashes in the sky
Draping us in their reverent soot
As we lay on the stonebed
That was hardened by our love.
Like a winged creature,
You soar to the ends of the worlds.
You're both my hunter and my prey
And I your warrior and your lamb.
I've locked eyes with you
And it was inferno and green field--
It was lightnings and rainbows--
It was micro of a second--
It was war of a lifetime.
You are chaos personified
That both started and ended tragedies.
And all in the middle you treasure.
All in the middle you resent.
You're bearing on your fingers
The threads that put all in place.
You glow so that you bore the sun itself.
I can never touch you
For if I do so, discord is unleashed
Like gust of wind bursting out of a small bottle,
Sweeping all to the vast expanse
Of unknown and uncertainties
That eventually led to losing.
This is what they say
That makes you turn away
From all you thought was beautiful--
Believing all that there is was that--
For something even more magnificent
And tasteful and holy and wrong.

I slept with death
We made love all night
And when the sun rises
We shall create life

There shall be no funeral
For my dreams unsung
I shall not weep
For the time gone by
For what worth would tears be
If they honor yesterday's rain
And not tomorrow's spring?

Your name is unimportant
Your dreams are
Your aspirations
Your passion
Let them then
Speak your name
For it'll be louder
Than coming from
Anyone's lips

Ah, the dangerous pleasure of sin
Its bittersweet taste
Why do we seek it so?
Do their rules amplify it?
Or do we simply hunger for it?

Death to the Poet!
None shall bellow her words
For they take you to the underworld;
None shall scream her songs
For they carry you to everlasting slumber;
None shall wear her clothes
For they drown you to the sinner's sea.
Death to the Poet!

I woke up today-- unkempt,
Without words or songs in mind,
The sun brighter in pretence--
I took an endless train for a ride.

for the Fairest,
remember my love when you sleep,
no days nor night shall it rest,
Death is my witness.

Red lips as stark as the scent of spring,
You’ve the soul of the sun wrapped around you,
Bathing suffocating gold to whatever nears—
Maria, you slay the world with your touch.

Religious storms pray for your guidance,
Furious waves drench the lighthouse to darkness,
The twang of twilight left unheard of—
Maria, you slay the world with your touch

You melt the deceiving kiss of winter,
Carried the everlasting echoes of wailing bells;
You have laid death on your white wool—
Maria, you slay the world with your touch.

Smile as harsh as the melody of a bird’s song,
Stare as gentle as the touch of rose’s thorns;
Breathless discord depletes to effeminate thoughts—
Maria, you slay me with your touch!

Pull her out, now kick her back in—
She knows the cave better than you,
The fire calls her but it’s a sin,
Tell her how to begin anew.

Her eyes see no stars from under,
She whispers the mud in her lungs
Dear friend, would you be her armor?
**** those butterflies on the run!

She’s dragging herself on the sand,
Before dark creeps, go from the sea,
The drowned ones are calling her hand—
Heed those not, do you hear? Heed me!

Lay down with her and you might find
The grave where she buries her eyes,
Rain keeps trailing her from behind
She gambles with light through a dice.

i am adrift--
piece by piece my mind is shattered
into flickering incongruity,
too fast before i could even be
snatched away from disillusionment,
from the fog that chills one's body
into unsolicited vexation,
yet its delicate strands i'm afraid to let go--
one tiny, unmeant flick of joint,
it breaks and is engulfed into nonexistence
by this unsentimental vacuum of an air.

I could no longer be careful—
For in my hands are the wings of storm,
And in my pockets are the souls of volcanoes—
Therefore I could no longer be careful.

I could not fathom the face of death
Nor the face of life itself,
For what lies between
Is the unmarked grave of the world.

I love without a heart;
I pray without a God;
I sing without a song;
I’m queen without queendom—
But within me is immortality.

I succumb to the tempest
Where my eyes see you,
I drown in the dark ocean
Where my ears hear you.

Amidst the raging chagrin,
Despite such woe brought
By your blind eyes and caged smiles,
I embrace the void.

You came into me like a door thrown
   open by a sudden **** of breeze—
A thunderous surprise, a stark light
   behind window blinds.
I came into you like a powerful and
   unyielding cascade of waterfall—
A mighty dragon unleashed from the
  ancient gates long forgotten.

The only thing between our love is us
But with this love we levitate;
Can’t just hang it by a rope
Although we’re just a grain of dessert sand.

I’m gonna hang my worries by a rope,
Ride the moon with these paper-thin
  legs;
Mama be so mad, I’m a messy pope,
Down into the rabbit hole, it begs

Throw my clean pants over the streets—
Let’s burn the city and its stubborn
  expectations;
Lay a spectrum of light by our feet
And bathe our spirits into golden fusion.

Put my reddest lipstick on;
Don’t pinch my arm, don’t wake me up!
Spread my butterfly wings and carry on—
This is something I will never get
  enough.

You are my final parade to the guillotine,
Last utterance until nevermore to be heard,
Last blade that I am to plunge in my guts—
It’s wretched and cruel yet I pursue.

Dawn is leaping to us but we want it creeping
Tip the poison bottles— be quick, we are chasing!
Don’t want it to end, can’t we go back from the dusk?
Where our visions are fogging with blissful purples?

How this could be a mountain memory,
How this could be an anxious scenery,
Wrap your arms around me when we both scream
The noise that only two of us can hear.

It’s dreading to feel the slap of time on our cheek,
But it’s the wind of the night that we are here for,
So let me feel your joyful teeth around my neck
While we slur our laughters and be washed down the sink.

We’re awake, can you feel the blood pumping?
Like the beat of thunder and rise of sun,
Don’t you dare don the shimmering armour,
Because our feet tread on the yellow road.

Be warmed as we raise our swords to revolution—
This leads to liberty of our own illusion
Let’s not tell for tomorrow, there’s money to pay,
Let the hooves of horses run wild; we’ll be our queens.

Do you see our figures in dark night sky?
As we’re hanging on the edge of the cliff?
With every red drink is a rush in me;
With every smell of your night is a spree.

My match stick is blazed, swallowing flames of bonfire,
The wind is chill on our skin, I flinch on your sigh,
Can we not see this moment in a picture frame?
Let us convince ourselves that this is every night.

It is the rebel hour, my friend—
Let then death greet us with open arms;
We shall flee like a quiet dawn,
And chase the phantom of immortality.

The misalignment of veins in my mind—
Its unsettling ominousness
Taints like a spilt coffee on white cloth—
A disgrace to my well-being!

The distant touches of my fingers
Leave fractured sensations in me,
Only on your command can tether
This upset equilibrium.

The depravity of will and thoughts
Born from its barren womb;
Whales swim in the sky, birds in the sea
How nurtured you are in me!

Feed me and you’ll go hungry,
Seek me and you will be lost,
Fight me and I will parry,
Teach me and you will be taught!

I am your true sweetest sin,
Your bottomless pit of rage—
Pretty melody you sing—
Your own shadow’s darkest shade.

Who am I but what you see
Behind the lids of your eyes;
Stuck in this limbo, might be—
The light under your heels cries.

Embrace is what’s left to do
For bitter wind comes along
And the dust delivers you to
Home which you always belong.

You can cut deeper than this—
Black flood surging in your mind;
Lean your head down for a kiss—
Just keep the two souls aligned.

who are you but a dripping honey
from the witch’s fingertip
who are you but a moss on fallen logs,
creeping into magnificent spoilage
who are you but that one last bubble,
escaping from drowned pale lips
who are you but the peaceful smell
of morning after a night’s storm
who are you but the devoid ink
from the tip of a writer’s pen.

Your prejudiced love,
I keep it in the treasure box;
Your unsung kisses,
I wear it around my neck.

Free the enchanted kiss
And the mind climbs mountains—
Be sought, magnificent touch,
And the soul breathes triumph!