“Wrapped in death’s garment,” I adroitly wrote on a crumpled piece of paper. Shrouded in darkness and fear, am I the only fool that bleeds in this cold but empty room? Desolated in my mind but not empty, owing to the fact that I am in it. Yet, I don’t consider myself as something that lives anymore. I am an apparition while being called human. The feeling of a human being is what I so despise. However, being called a human is what makes me even more lonely, and this is the only way I can accept the reality of what a human really is. Knowing this, makes me want to disappear for good. I want to be wrapped in death’s garment.

The thought of this moment being a dream or an illusion slipped away in an instant.
--
It was about to be midnight and the lustrous moon shines upon the watery surface as its view mirrored back into her eyes, it was an extraordinary sight to any beholder who took the time to observe this deep blue ocean. Many would have made short work of it, devoid of any feeling or emotion. They would just call it blue out of banal intend. But these mere creatures are indifferent to the notion what beauty truly means.
--
A bone-chilling breeze made me realise that this occurrence wasn't foolery and the deeper I gazed at the ocean, the more lost and enchanted I became.

I unsheathe my weapon,
as naked as its gets

Plumed with a bird's feather,
pointy at its end

This weapon I dip in ink,
with thoughts of regrets

I scribble something down,
with caution I apprehend

To whom it may concern,
read and witness the noun

This is yet a journey,
with nothing but a frown