My body floats on the still lake water
as if I was a weightless piece of trash.
Nonrecycable and sent out to nature to vanish forever.
Helplessly, the white seagulls would fly over me,
circular in pattern, then the grey skies followed.

I begin to count each white seagull with their black, beady eyes, 1, then 2, then 3,
I lost count as my eyes became lazy with the evening sky.
It burdens me so as to why I started to grace the surface of the water in the first place. I could not fathom a reason or contemplate a thought as to why my fate led me here.

I became a floating vessel of skin, blood and bones, then I began to take on the murky water and sink.

Am I being erased into a watery grave and by the hand of some unknown entity?

I swallowed my last breathe of life. Slowly sinking to the bottom of the lake.
My mind erases the watery scene as I close my eyes forever.

Then I awoke in my own bed!!

Show me a field that is filled with golden flowers
hours upon hours the smell of the grass elevates the scents
that seems to send passerbys into an overdrive of envy.
Lend me your hand so that my coarse skin is softened by yours,
the door to my heart is forever open awaiting your entrance
and the defences are fending off other fiends so don't worry about guard
because as hard as it is to trust, I've let my guards down a long time ago.
Show me that you can be the green to my gold
let us grow old but never grow up as we play like kids
let the bliss fill both our hearts as we unite together against the world.
Girl, will you find it in yourself to love me? ...as much as I love you?

We all do know this is true

That life one day we must leave

By a gruesome unwilling way

Or by the time of aging naturally

But the thing I must now implore

Is your thoughts on a life after this

As I lay unmoving in my stony grave

Will my soul feel as if it's amiss?

So mermaids, humans, elven and wolves

Please give me a piece of your time

What do you think become's of our souls

While our bodies rest buried beneath lime

I am the optimal level of sanity,
treading where dreading hearts
dare not travel,
walking in shadows
with blind madmen.

I am the
strangely broken
god of poetry
because I create
new worlds of
hope and despair
everyday
without even needing
six days and one to rest.

I unravel the fabric of thought
to light the worst
so, we can bring out the best
like they brought out the dead
during the plague
Bells ringing for the
unsanitary mistakes
of mass population
humans promulgating on
the promenade of life
propagating in dense spaces
and disseminating our chemical forms
across the globe
inseminating malleable minds
and soft mud bodies.

Who am I but the mad king poet
because in the land of the blind
the one-eyed writer
is better than all eastern
and western philosophy poetry.