I fall in love and cry
Cry for those who can’t

Solitude becomes a choir,
  An illuminating echo that turns into a horrid cacophony.
        Harsh reminder of a dreamer who could not dream,
                    A painter who could not paint . . .  
                          A singer who could not sing . . .
                                Come and calm this song, Come and save me,
                                     From this anxiety, that steals the value of my life.  
__________________
Fi­reworks explode, they color your eyes.
     Do not sing, do not paint, do not dream, simply write.

Artistry cannot erase desire.
   But it can fuel your fire and desire.

Let each stroke, give you sensations.
   Of my hand on yours, a state of warmth and delight.

Nonetheless when you suffer,
      And beg for “HELP!” know.
                I am never.
                         -𝐟𝐚𝐫

I feel. . .
  The cool autumn breeze.

I hear. . .
  The swaying of thunderous palm tree's.

I smell. . .
  Cheap fields of flowers from your perfume.

I taste. . .
  The bittersweet ocean that mocks me.

I am. . .
   waiting
      -▌│█║▌║▌║ Ⓐ𝕃ⓞ𝔫€ ║▌║▌║█│▌

You are a vision of ecstasy, unobtainable divinity.
       Beauty so bright, it mocks the universe.

Cosmic light so blinding, unbelievable sight.
    Beauty so fabricated, I must be asleep.

Held out my hand, love at first sight.
    There is no warmth, only silence.
         -g̶o̶o̶d̶b̶y̶e̶

We write about heartbreak, a state of depression.
      each stroke, each page turning.

We write about happiness, a state of delusion
      as if artistry could erase, human desire.

Nonetheless,
  we suffer and lie to mask the words.
           - " I love you"

Each poem is a window into your past, present and something more.
    Rays of honey pour from your pen,
       Words of Stars that thrill and enamor sensibility,
          The moon which radiates off your poetic sea,
                 creative, unending and raging,
                       like the words that radiate through every cell,
                           from the sound of your little caged birds.
                                   My sweet poetic friend.

As you try to look in your vintage heart with all your might,
It's as If you're trying to count all the stars in one night
For sometimes when you want to seek glory,
It's as if your soul opens up a new challenge, a new story
For those times when you stay awake
Calling out your name again and again until it sounds okay
For those times when you just want to fly
It's as if your life gives you a new lie
For those times when you just want freedom and escape your life's hostel warden
Those difficult times are when no one lifts the burden
For those little tiny yet colossal times,
When you feel completely misunderstood
Those times, every time is when you wrap yourself in solitude