Sometimes people
Come in our life
For short time
Some stay longer
Some time your sad
see them go
Some not so much
But either way
They leave foot print
In our hearts

Desert, the final King married to his Queen
reaps long deep thought from out the feeble futures of wishing,
and of all creatures there is only one, who keeps on wishing,
And wishing we meet in a place not of our choosing, but its the only place we have, the only chance to wish, the only place to give each other one more chance, the only place where a Queen and King entwine, finally becoming one, becoming, becoming, one.

I want to be beautiful poetry, but instead I am vapid stanzas,
An indrawn breath between the lines.
The dampened air before the rain, and the traffic light that never turns
I am the catch in a song and the dying embers of firelight,
I am an inland lighthouse.
I am an abandoned wasps' nest and a mangy alley cat,
A tarnished ring in a landfill,
But I am also pearlescent, the destination after a long journey,
Beautiful, in its own way.

I wish I could feel something other than this sadness
I'm really sick of all this madness
the drama I create inside my mind
if only my sanity was something I could find
except for all these joyous ruses
I'm not convinced that all these bruises
will heal and I feel like running away from me
or starting a catastrophe
to hide in the numbness...
and I keep hearing about oneness
and it makes no **** sense
might as well burn some incense
and conjure my demons and tell them that
I'm ready for relapse
so they can prepare the way to my grave
with all the rage of yesterday
oh Lord!
where are you...
I keep feigning faith and trust
yet the only things I seek are out of lust
from a disgusting array of fantasies
even worse when they manifests in my dreams
because I can hear the screams
that are coming from me
I'm not sure I'm going to be okay
I've worked so very hard at changing my ways
my thinking and perceiving of what I see
but the world is exactly as ****** up as I knew it to be
and there's no consoling me at the moment
so here is me trying not to control it
oh, **** it, I'm tired of pretending that all will be well
that all manner of things will be well in this living hell
'cuz my mind is a prison phone with the devil on the line
telling me that all I'll ever have is time...