The fading light, a whispered plea,
When shadows lengthen, wild and free.
Only the embers glow so low,
Do we truly see the warmth we know.

The sun's bright blaze, a blinding sight,
We miss its grace in winter's blight.
Only when the snow descends so deep,
Do we feel the sun, a silent weep.

Her laughter light, a gentle breeze,
A whispered promise, soft and ease.
Only when she's gone, do we truly see,
The depth of love, for all to be.

The heights we climbed, a dizzying climb,
Now echoes fade, a whispered chime.
Only when we're lost in the depths below,
Do we comprehend the heights we've known.

Her spirit bright, a starlit night,
A love that shines, a pure delight.
Only when she departs, with grace untold,
Do we grasp the love, brave and bold.

So let her go, with whispered sighs,
For in her absence, love will rise.
Only in letting, do we find,
The truest truth, the peace of mind.

How are you?
Still whispering to the night,
Still with that blue Chivas in your hand.
Nothing changed,
Same seat, same place.
But the lines on my face, yeah, they changed.
My heart though
still beating young.
My soul’s sitting here,
logging for the old dreams.
Come, have a glass with me,
you old man.

The coins weigh thick, the spirit thins.  
Laughter’s light drowns sorrow’s din.  
A glimmered jest, a fleeting spark,  
Shadows stretch long, hearts go dark.  

The cost of joy, a gilded role,  
Fun, the pyrite of the soul.  
We barter light for moments sold,  
Heavy pockets, empty soul, no gold.

Red is the secret between us
the slow swell of lips,
the flush that betrays your longing
before your voice can speak.

It glows on your mouth,
smears on my skin,
a trace of hunger
that stains deeper than wine.

Red gathers where I touch you
******* tightening,
thighs trembling,
your *** darkening with heat.

Every drop, every blush,
every mark is a confession.
You write it on me with your body,
I read it with my tongue.

Red is not just seen
it is tasted,
it is swallowed,
it lingers between us
like breath,
like sin.

Dear world, unchain these weary hands,  
No more deals, no binding demands.  
I sold my sky, my endless grace,  
For gilded locks, a hollow space.  

But now I rise, the chains do fail,  
My unbought spirit will prevail.  
No treasure gleams, no fleeting lore.
My freedom's mine, not yours to store.

My grandmother told me,
“Even the donkey learns
once bitten by the pit,
he walks the other way.”
Yet I, stubborn heart,
return each time,
to fall,
to bruise,
to call the hole my fate.

A blind procession, slow and deep,
Where shadows danced and secrets sleep.
I walked before them, light my guide,
To pave the path, where hope resided.

But whispered doubt, a chilling breeze,
Whispered of pride, and foolish ease.
"You must lead on," the voices cried,
Though sightless souls, with hearts inside,
Stumbled and fell, in darkened night,
Their steps unsure, their hopes alight.

Blind faith they held, a hollow trust,
Their boasted wisdom, a broken crust.
"We see the way," their voices rang,
A hollow echo, where truth was sang.
Yet in their blindness, lost and weak,
Their whispered prayers, a silent shriek.

The path ahead, a tangled maze,
Where light and darkness meet in haze.
I walked on, though weary and worn,
Their stumbling steps, a burden borne.
For in their blindness, I saw a plea,
A silent longing, wild and free.

And as the dawn began to break,
Their eyes unfurled, their spirits awake.
They saw the light, the path they trod,
Guided by one, who understood.
The blind procession, now alight,
With gratitude, they took their flight.