_

No longer do I feel the urge to weep – as I lift my gaze to behold an
endless ocean; I navigate a life woven with threads of self-doubt.
Plucking at my mind, a bloom with countless petals – eager for
growth, yet the nourishment of my spirit, is drawn from the parched
earth of this world.

These days unfold like a mirage, trapped within a grotesque nightmare, spiritually and morally barren at times – when I lose the art of dreaming.

I place my hopes where echoes linger – casting my heart into a fervour,
wishing it ricochets off the walls. Drifting through life with a hollow checklist – an existence devoid of meaning, yet I persist, sustained by
a God who still believes in me, and in the essence of my soul.

Enthralling – the vanished fragrances; my olfactory senses
are akin to a daisy, each petal plucked accompanied by
a murmur of “if she loves me, loves me not”

Her scent – sends sparks of shivers through me;
a fragrance bold enough to fill the space, gentle
not to drop it all.

My dear, is that very scent that ensnared my heart.

Closed eyes,
embracing you in the shadows,

The clock's chime igniting a flame
within me – resolutions!

No resolve in that fleeting moment
kissing into the new year; our midnight
kiss.

Oh, please tell me why I still care for the side of you that always
lets me down – my mind becomes your fence, picking at all of my
thoughts – each one a slat in a picket fence to surround your own
insecurities.

Tell me what lights are coming on, to keeping on pretending that
love still turns you on; have you truly spent the nights restlessly
trying to fall asleep in a **** pose, draped in nothing but a pyjama
thong?

You shed your clothes more readily than your skins, that could
unveil the core of your true self –  “this time, I am changing,” you
proclaim, yet what truly changes if you harbour such shame for
the loose parts of yourself, tell me what’s the point of looking for
change, if you don't want to fully change?

Beautiful ugly reflection –
slipping into the depths of your heartbreak;
Do you still tally your breaths – gasping for air!
At times, we drift so far from the warmth of home,
a cosmic wonder; yet the cosmos cradles the remnants
of extinguished stars.

Would you light a cigarette – to mask the fierce truths
of your spirit; those weary hands still possess a gentle
caress.

A handshake fraught with shaky bonds – bond to your
insecurities; anchoring you in a realm of perpetual self-doubt.

                   You are worth infinitely more, my mirrored self.

Wayfare angel,
Yonder the North Star shining beyond
A divine herald sent from the heavens above.

Oh, this night, a wondrous night unfolds,
A child is born from a pure and holy womb,
In a humble manger, the Saviour lies,
To all ye shepherds and wise men gathered here,
Follow this radiant star, and behold the light of the world.

Arise, ye who dwell in the realm of the living,
Come forth to witness this miraculous dawn,
For a child is born, the Christ,
The Lord of lords; oh, sweet infant,
Your birth and sacrifice hold profound meaning for our world.
Let us worship Him who has come to save us—
Christ, the Lord of lords.

Her: All men are nothing but dogs!

Him: Yes, indeed… but have you ever pondered the breed of each man? Some are fiercely loyal, others stand as protectors, a few are brash and aggressive, while some are merely oversized infants. You get the stubborn ones, the overly playful bunch, or grumpy ones. And then, there are those wretched few who tarnish our reputation, who just love to **** all over on your pristine carpet.

All men are indeed dogs, just depends on the one you got.

_

I’ve slipped into a realm of love, ensnared by
yet another crush— no wet floor signs in sight!
Overthinking, deep thinking; I am adrift in an
ocean of thoughts— no life jackets in sight!
I’ve been a jug of emotions, constantly pouring
out my heart— yet these days, I offer only a cup.

These eyes, are crafted from paper, with all these
drawn-out plans— crinkled, and crushed!
Cast aside like a forsaken heart, unguarded by the
walls I used to bring up— please, don’t bring up my
reluctance to divulge too much— not much to say!

Just pinch me to the starkness of reality; I have
been tickled by the allure of dreams too much.

_

Do our lips & fingertips ignite
the searing heat of our kisses—
like glowing embers of a dying fire?

Your tender whispers linger,
a constant flame that consumes me.
Every passing moment, the chasm between us widens…

The fire of longing blazes within me in your absence,
it blazes even more fiercely when you are near.

Ignite within me the feeling of love –
a bulb warming up in its own radiance; I need that idea
behind me falling in love – peace of mind, yet we still
kiss behind the chaos of what we always had –
                                                a long time crush.

Don’t you dare crush my heart – swear to me, cross your
heart and hope not to die, or would you choose to double
cross me, transforming that sacred mark into a bitter X…

I suppose for me, this would be the third strike.

                                   ***

squeezed into existence by the head – coughing out
my first words, with lungs choked with dust;
a body rhyming; to the rhythm of heartbeats against
a mother’s *****— eyes nourished by the vibrant
hues of this bewildering new realm.

in those nascent moments, my existence began shrouded
in shadows—the tunnel’s end merely a flicker; the stars ached
the skies cried their rain; on that eve, the wind exhaled the
essence of creation into my very skin.

so my skin ignited like a volcano, each limb ablaze with
fervour, the heat layering upon itself—yet still, the tantalizing
urge to step out caressed my feet.

Every sensation was a revelation; each experience felt like
a debut, devouring time as if it were the first taste of life—
longing for love swirling above me, a fire igniting my desire
for a pen, spiralling into infinity, as if it were all happening
for the very first time.

                              ...birth of a poet.

Oh, how it haunts me to realize I am not the
finest swimmer –
a lovesick fool adrift in the
ocean of your
blue eyes,
Boundless and profound like
the depths of the sea
itself.

                      I am sinking beneath the waves
of your love’s
                    cerulean embrace!

My girlfriend turned to me, her eyes searching for clarity.
“When we first crossed paths, we were nothing but good friends.
Do we still share that bond, that genuine care for one another as true
friends do?”

With conviction, I replied,
             “Absolutely, yes.”

She paused, her expression shifting as she continued,
“Then perhaps it’s best we remain just friends. Even without the
romance, I could never bear to lose the precious connection we
forged at the beginning.

                                                                AS FRIENDS.”

Find for me a decent love that stirs a distant heart,
If I dare to love you, can I still remain the man I am—
the man you truly want?

Stitch me together with the stars; I shall fall deeper
in love, ready to fulfil every wish you want.
Adrift on the ocean, we’ll let time drown, washing
away the moments we’d share in this love.

Record my emotions like a demo tape,
tracking the melodies of my heart—
my mind, is a mere spark igniting the edge of a match,
checking the box to reveal the flame that yearns for
the love I too want.

            Want, want, want love... That is all I need, to want.

In the quiet corners of my
mind, I get lost
in my words –
as are my thoughts swirling
like leaves in the wind.
My notebook and pen become my
abditory:
a secret refuge where I
can disappear.

__

And it is here, in this
cherished hideaway, that I
lose
myself completely,
enveloped in the embrace
of
ink and paper,
crafting a reality
all my own.

We appear to love as captives, shackled by the relentless whispers
of our hearts. The places we seek solace may very well be our final
resting spots; our beds could transform into our tombs. We exist
only as long as He allows, wrapped in blessings and gifts, while
you continue to frolic in this world, surrendering yourself to
become its plaything.

And still, you laugh—gasping for air, straying down a treacherous
path, while within, you weep silently; suffocating as you struggle
for breath… a twisted obsession of despaired wet dreams.

Tell me, in our yearning for mercy, why does it elude us –
for the mercy we long for, why doesn’t our own exist?

To worship life, sadly means  learning how to laugh at your
worth. You present yourself as a lump of sugar, yet your
thoughts are like a lump of coal, consuming you as you stare
into the glow of your phone…

                                        Ah, I pen these lines for my own reflection.

The azure of my skin – a shade reminiscent of the vast ocean,
melancholic as a distant horizon that forever eludes fulfilment;
it never seems complete. How can I compete with this solitude –
lying in a bed stripped of its warm embrace… Blue adorned my
pillowcase, where I dreamt of the crime of love; she stole my heart
in a blue-collar crime.

And blue was the only remnant she left behind, a sorrowful hue
that echoed my longing for a love that was never truly mine.

Is falling in love like dreaming – for I have tasted a mere pinch of
love, and I implore you, do not pinch me, and wake me up. My heart
dances like a brush upon the canvas of my flushed cheeks; I yearn not
to rush into this enchanting feeling, yet I find myself swept away in
this exhilarating feeling’s rush.

Like a lush forest adorned with vibrant canopies, I sense a love that is
both elusive and captivating—so wild is the sensation you evoke, as I
strive to quench my eyes thirst, for one more glimpse of you.

My emotions are splattered across the canvas, each stroke a testament
to the artist's longing; your aim must have been true, for this feels
nothing short of a masterpiece. I draw nearer to you, like that very
pencil, etching thoughts in my mind, desperate to articulate the
depths of my affections.

Tell me, is falling in love like dreaming – for I have tasted a mere
pinch of love, and I implore you, do not pinch me, and wake me up.
I quite enjoy being in love.

I can't help the way I feel when I’m searching for love in your
eyes –I am powerless against the tide of emotions that swell
within me, staring at the warmth of love reflected in your gaze.

Speak to me, dear heart- do you not feel the same electric pulse
that ignites when our spirits intertwine? I am at a loss for words to
convey the tempest of anguish that rages within; will you kindle
the flames of our connection, transforming mere embers into a
blazing fire?

For when you whisper, "I love you," it seems to exist only in the
realm of my dreams. Am I too desperate, too lost in my own
fantasies? Would you truly love me? Is this mere infatuation, or
could it blossom into something profound?

                      Oh, how I hate these relentless inquiries about love.

Eyes of a deep, earthy brown meet my gaze – a clash of syllables;
she embodies the essence of the soil.  Her foundation is unwavering,
and she is no one to indulge in the comforts of tepid waters;
she’s meant to ignite.

She leaves me in suspense, yearning – my nerves tremble in the
dawn’s embrace, her presence a jolt to fuel my spirit.

An ode to the morning brew.

Amidst the echoes of a victorious romance, would you seek me?
In its subtle notes, I harbour every grievance, silently measuring
you against the passions of pasts, the ardour I once knew with
those I loved. The heat of your lips ignites a longing within me,
a rich Cyprus wine that awakens my very soul.

My skin bears the marks of disdain — a fallen star I proclaim,
for those who yearned for genuine love, yet bared their desires
to the world. The sincere man allowed each kiss to belong to its
rightful muse, while a desirous gaze conjures love born solely
from jealousy.

The eyes, those envious masterpieces of humanity, without
a doubt.

To meet my end by the hour of nine,
yet I’ll live until the clock strikes eight.
I will leave by seven, ensuring I am not late.

So unleash your pent-up hate on inadequate objects –
for in doing so, you shall become the object of hate.

_

In a fleeting moment
when one holds onto a rock,
they feel so invincible...

Yet, if one holds fiercely to their pride,
surely their emotional intelligence
is all but invisible?

                               Invisibly invincible.

3:33 – My clock unwinds in reverse, clinging to the
Vibrant hours of youth; a formidable mistress,
Wielding the greatest dominion upon the day’s wake

So…

Reset your clock to the echoes of yesteryears –
Rest in a past that offers no respite; a maze you’ll never escape
Amaze in the cast of fleeting glances at your own existence,
Entangled in the intricate web of your own perfect maze,
While those above, are retracing our steps upon the parchment
Of this bewildering journey, on the maze’s page.

My heart is ensnared by the way the light dances
in your eyes, a mesmerizing spectacle that nourishes
my very soul, you're my radiant source of vitamin D
As I lent you my tank top, my thoughts were tangled
in a web of our silence, as we shared a kiss that lingered
long, leaving both social tanks on E.

Your lips remain sealed, yet they whisper of fervent
dreams, each smile a fleeting glimpse into your passion
The career you envision unfolds like a cinematic masterpiece,
with you at the helm, boldly declaring, “Action!”

As my admiration for your curves surely deepens,
your unwavering positivity are all these straight lines;
unyielding, resolute, and always moving forward
Your essence is akin to a pen, sharp and purposeful,
having a point to make, making it so easy for me to
spell it out to you;  U R truly Gorgeous.

_

Oh, speak to me of these elusive dancing shoes;
for a love that could unfold so easily as a dance,
but I’m stumbling, lacking the steps to formerly romance –
It fills my heart with sadness, this reliance to chance,
for in the blink of an eye,

                I may have already missed my chance.

And then,
like a tempest, emotions surged through my mind –
ah, I believe it could only be the work of a UFO,

And there she stood,
a tall figure, her fingers surprisingly short –
they nicknamed her Finn; a name laced with irony,
for she relishes the Adventure time in the depths
of my heart, soul, body, and mind.

And truly she’s a catch;
swimming so effortlessly, and gliding so gracefully
through the currents of my every thought…

                                                       ­     Finn the girl.

I am the soil that farmer refused, flung into the vast
expanse, crushed beneath the weight of restless hooves.
I am the spark that could have ignited a revolution—
if only the shadows of doubt had not stifled my youth.
I am the visionary wielding my pen like a *****, and
unearthing these many buried truths.

I am the sky weeping a thousand tears swelling
these clouds; and overcasting my perfect smile –
I am the battalion feeding the fury of mankind,
standing resolute on the peaks of man’s greatest trials

I am the wandering cab driver, burdened by the weight
of unfulfilled dreams, seeking in the silence of his
backseat the warmth of true companionship
I am the mirrored gaze of a suffering companion, reflecting
their anguish- as I too bear the scars aboard the same ship

I am not the arbiter nor the prosecutor;
I am not less divided as man, or feel any more equal —
I am the contradiction, the enigma; I am the visage
that conceals the essence of the people...

I am the People!

_

To pit me against these holes of a mind —
a spiralling pit of contemplation; the value of words
Proclaiming to this ruin of yourself —  
calling her mine; this intellect is a field of mines.

And I must warn you,
should the mind veer to the left,
while the heart strays to the right,
It heralds nothing but your own demise.

_

She says I...
should treat her like a masterpiece of art,
And I’d be a fool to not get the fuller picture;

I might linger by her side, yet my position
remains a mystery, akin to a Khaled feature.

She hides behind her smile;
that’s a kaleidoscope of emotions—perceptual,
asymmetrical, mixed signals with her eyes –
okay, I think I got the picture; “she is a living
Mona Lisa;” yet, she remains to me,
an enigma.

Read from bottom to the top!


                                                         to fall of its E
                                               waiting                   D
                                 ­        curve,                            G
                         ­         unjust                                   E
                               an                                             •
                       such                                                      
      ­              on                                                 ­            
              lives                                 ­                               
          our
    live
We

_

My skins are woven in verses; this lyrical matter
I may not blend in everywhere; but it doesn’t matter
Don’t anticipate a fragrance of always being blessed,
I’m not exactly a gift from the skies, or a heaven sent.
  
Even if I’m used, don’t brand me as useless,
just use me less. And if I appear distant from love,
don’t label me heartless, I’m just choosing to use
my heart less…

Constructing barriers along the streets of life
even though I doubt foundations as concrete,
Coming in to complete a sheet of my worth -
still finding the chords; I seem so incomplete.

What are my labels:
lost, confused, hopeless, & odd
But correctly said, "these labels aren't all
I'll be - still I be, yond a star, a beauty nestled
within the clouds, to know I must always look,

Beyond!

__

Still in the stillness of the night,
I dream about my own my own demise –
And I don’t know whether it’s a prophecy
or just these thoughts on suicide…

By the heat of another long summer,
all my fears spring up; unfurling like petals –
But as a pretty flower without any colour...

And I still cry myself to sleep,
always behind this pretty smile
In the cold grip of winter, I melt away -
Drowned in inner tears, and like my clothes:
I'm burdened by a heap of thoughts - more to the pile!

Treading upon the fragile shards of time;
moments cascade into oblivion, as the echoes
of my bones resonate with the agony of existence.
I seldom boast of my worth, yet my lips dared to speak
with courage. I sought my place among the stars, wandering
the glassy avenues where the imprint of your steps lingers
upon the meticulously laid path.

My mind, burdened by the weight of stony tears,
contemplates the thoughtless utterances that birthed
yet another futile verse. At times, I find myself gasping beneath
the suffocating pillow of my own uncertainties, surviving on
the fragile threads of hope, faith, and fleeting joy that last but
a week; still, I feel like an intruder in my own sanctuary.

Dreams drown in the merciless shadows;
the dawn's light offers them a glimmer of hope – a sanctuary
for the spirit among the awakened. I drift in a half-sleep,
daydreaming amidst a throng of fellow dreamers, our youthful
skins too tender to fade, a heart yearning to be filled with cherished
memories.

These sins bind humanity in shackles,
desperately seeking an escape from the labyrinth of their minds.
Oh, is existence truly madness? Yet, in spite of the suffering,
we pray to live another day. And so this fragment of life is
my grace, a testament to the fact that I have yet to meet the grave.

__

Mmmh… a new, swollen blister blooms upon my eye,
a testament to my silent suffering. My mind lingers in the shadows,
a flickering flame that refuses to extinguish, yet devoid of dreams.
Each tear I’ve shed is trapped within an ancient jar, sinking into
the depths of a vast ocean, yearning for the tide that might one
day carry them away.

Will my dreams rise again, soaring like a fleeting spark,
threatening to pierce my very soul—or perhaps the dreams
of those who dared not believe?

Mmmh… my heart beats in rhythm with the relentless
march of time; the ticking of clocks, their gears grinding slowly—
half-alive, biding their moment until the final hour strikes.
My imagination relentlessly pursues a dream, even as they
dissolve into the void of oblivion.

My chest has hollowed, teetering on the brink of collapse
under the weight of my self-imposed despair. For every bridge
I’ve traversed or set ablaze, I feel the presence of a solitary bridge,
echoing with loneliness. Yet, one might surrender hope—
if only…

__

Put me in place of your heart with no coaster –
unguarded and raw; leaving behind my watermarks.
Elevate it to the brilliance of the one who reignited its
passion, revealing the architect of new love.

I shall attune myself to the melancholic rhythm of
your heartbeats, my fingers gliding over your skin,
eyes closed, crafting your visage in the canvas of my mind.

Even as your kiss bares the cold of your pain,
bestow upon me a devastating kiss, and I vow to ignite
your heart, even if it means extinguishing my own flame.

Must you smother me any less than you’d
love to do, even as the tendrils of your intoxicating
poison envelop me in a silent demise?

Yet, I would pen odes of devotion to you,
sorrowful stanzas of my longing, only to
weep for them in the aftermath.

Do your eyes still traverse the corridors of memory, like a VCR
rewinding its cherished tapes? Capturing your reflection in the
mirror—still radiant, unadorned, and unapologetic. I still find
myself consumed by jealousy for that bathroom mirror,
privileged to witness you from every corner of your room.

Consumed by the sinister allure of your skin’s shadowy depths,
a brilliance emerges that rivals the most exquisite treasure.
My dear, you continue to weave a tapestry of uncertainty around
me—thoughts hovering like spectres above, even as you attempt
to mask the passage of time with a new hue in your hair.

Yet, your capricious emotions betray you, revealing strands of silver
that ravenously consume my heart, and each sigh a testament to
your power. You ought not to linger in the recesses of my mind,
yet these last seven days have only intensified my fascination,
leaving me utterly weak.

I cast my laments to the skies, my spirit weeping profusely – the
cascade of your lip’s whisper, the tempestuous tides of your form,
the fortress of towering trees echoing the curve of your legs – how
can I possibly avert my gaze from your enchanting eyes? You have
transformed my heart into a crime scene, slaying me piece by piece,
all for the sake of uniting with you.

You were once my everything – everywhere. A whisper of a voice,
now a ghost in the air; you reigned supreme over my thoughts, –
my mind was your throne, your beauty an heir. I leaped into the
depths of your heart, clad in a jumpsuit, forsaking the safety of a parachute – and thus, I plummeted into your love from the moment
we first crush. I was but a mere pebble next to your rock, dwarfed by
your strength; shattered by your stability, reduced to mere dust.

My skin, now tarnished like rust – the remnants of my words
mingling with the oxygen I struggled to breathe, left gasping in your
breath-taking presence. Tears welled in my eyes, mourning the loss
of you, while the iron resolve it took to finally move on felt like an
eternity… from a love that must have been so rushed?

And yet, I still cling to hope;

You were once my everything – everywhere. But now I find my
heart adrift, lost in this wind to nowhere.

_

The legacy of humanity hangs precariously
Upon their own blinded whims of fortune –
While faith is seasoned by the labour invested,
In the banquet of faith’s supplication.

Yet instead of harmonious voices, their frictional
Howls intertwine as a dog chasing after cars–
Those parked must seem a feast to the naïve,
Whose journey is dictated by the drive of others –

So simple-minded, solely to blend in with the crowd,
As indeed, wealth wields power - it challenges
Every muscle and very sentiment.

In every petal lies a tale untold,
Of grace and power intertwined as one.
A world of wonder, fierce and yet so bold,
Where love and strength unite beneath the sun.
In these eyes – I’ve seen a woman’s world…

___

It’s a rose, enchanting, blooms with beauty rare,
Yet danger lurks within its soft embrace.
A tender touch of love, a whispered prayer,
But I ask if it has the strength to hold its place?

Still in quiet thought, I dwell and muse,  
As a man reflects on such; alas his worldly views,  
My words a burden felt heavy, and steep,  
For in such a world, my voice shan’t speak.

__

In the vast abyss of emptiness, as nothingness
reigns supreme, there lies a flicker of value,
a glimmer of hope.

Within our power to decide what treasures
we shall pour into the hole of our hearts,
the means to mend the fractures of
our souls – to be whole.

__

Genuine friends are much rarer than the fingers on
one hand — as only a handful can be counted upon.
They could be as numerous as the stars scattered
across a moonlit expanse, yet only a select few truly
cast their glow upon our lives.

Beyond my current state lies a distance
that feels even more distant than my
aspirations. A day of tranquility lives
solely in our daydreams,
beckoning the fragments of my being
to come back, urging my thoughts to
gather once more.

____

I am the void that lingers between the
stanzas of a flawless poem—words that
falter in their imperfection.
My voice is silent, with so much
to say - a paradox that leaves me frozen;
lingering moments before revealing your
vulnerabilities. Oh, the despair!
My faith lies fragmented and adrift—
these whispered prayers sway back
and forth, yearning to hold significance.

____

Do I hold any significance at all,
composed of the very essence of atoms
colliding in a chaotic dance?
"Dissolved," I melt into nothingness,
like ice under the sun, reshaping into
the visage of any soul that touches me,
flowing like water.

          Alas, I seem to be dead again!

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty...
weighing your faith, yet your doubt overflows plenty,
plunging back into the abyss of your sadness—
your declarations of worth echo loudly, yet your lips
remain sealed, indifferent to the truth that aches to be spoken.

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty...
Arms withdrawn from embrace, a gaze a sharp weapon,
severing ties to love, drifting like a forsaken leaf—
your words, mere shadows of substance, a hunger
that only leaves the soul impoverished.

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty...
I should have come more often; would you expect me?
From the grime that clings to my skin, I sift through the
muck for miracles, offering a sweet smile that belies
a heart worn and weary...

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty;
“cos I have gazed upon my reflection too many times,
as the glass being half empty.”

A life ignites, only to extinguish in time’s relentless grasp – just
as a year dawns, yet fades away without so much as a whisper.
Here I stand, teetering on the precipice of the new, bidding
adieu to the past, resting upon this pedestal of moments;
I yearn to voice my thoughts, yet hesitate to preach.

It is all too simple for one to recount the trials of a year, to boast
of triumphs over adversity. But what if, for some, the conclusion
merely serves as the bitter prelude to yet another distressed chapter?

In the grand of our existence, there are moments of sweetness,
fleeting as a confection – yet the bitterness we endure clings to
our lips, overshadowing the once delightful flavours.
This year has been a grand banquet, glorious yet marred by
unwelcome intruders: fury, regret, despair, heartbreak, betrayal,
pain, sorrow, and loss – a feast both lacklustre and so dreadful.

Yet, amidst the fury, there lies the soothing balm of silence to
soothe a troubled heart. Where regret lingers, it serves as a
poignant reminder of paths best left pathless. From the depths
of despair, a vivid portrait emerges, crafted from the ink of my
struggles. In the wake of heartbreak, I find solace in the truth that
even the most hardened souls harbour a tender echo of softness.

Betrayal has bestowed upon me the fortitude to extend trust,
albeit with an alert heart. In the face of pain, my spirit bears
wounds yet remains resolute, ready to rise beyond the scars.
Where sadness dwells, cherished memories dance through
my tears, illuminating the darkness. And in the shadow of loss,
I glean wisdom from the echoes of what I once cherished.

All these revelations I have gathered upon this pedestal of time.

Gravity becomes increasingly
envious of everyone: who've put me
down, kept me down - to let me down.

I have endured through the shadows of despair,
chronicling the haunting spectre of suicide,
Each word a desperate attempt to vanquish
her insidious thoughts, that creep back into
my mind.

As long as I draw breath - I live to write,
and write more so, to stay alive.

As the searing, ashen smoke erupts violently from
its flaring nostrils, it envelops me in a suffocating
Embrace, each inhalation a cruel reminder of the
scalding heat that sears my delicate skin.

I am crushed beneath the weight of its colossal hooves,
like a forgotten stone lost in the depths of a murky,
Unyielding puddle — its foreboding silhouette, crowned
with a mane as dark as the abyss, gallops through the
Labyrinth of my thoughts, casting a chilling shadow that
clings to me, a relentless spectre that whispers of doom.

This creature, a true harbinger of death, exudes a frigid,
acrid scent of regrets that seem to claw at the very core
Of my existence — night after night, my dreams are invaded
by tormenting visions, vivid and unyielding, mapping out
the grim path to my own funeral – a foul stench; chilling
reminder of cold regrets that claw at my very last breath.

I see a pristine white coffin, adorned with stark white
blooms, marred by the crimson stains from my own wrists.
And amidst these agonizing dreams, the ominous beast
stands tall, solemnly bearing the weight of my coffin towards
An unknown afterlife, a spectral horse of death draped in
the deepest shadows, embodying the very essence of my
self-inflicted demise.