I am yearning with
an ache for something
sharp to caress my arms

My heart sings
the bluest song,
but no one is
around to hear it

I hope one day,
my heart sings
a yellow song
that rhymes with
happiness and serenity

Keep thy head underwater—
staying afloat will not
quench this thirst of yours

A rotten skull
wired to feel melancholy

A nightmare self
that only saw freedom
at the tip of a kitchen knife
isolated from this life

A mind
with death plants
flourishing inside it

A garden of Angel's Trumpet
abloom with a deadly touch
recherché but poisonous

One of Azrael’s early visitors,
I’m now a flower in his graveyard

An angel,
spreading her wing
to take me under it
to ease the anguish
of my heavy heart

A heavenly creature
fled from a lover’s hell
to purify her stained heart

I never felt loneliness
till my lusted angel
flew back to her realm

Will she ever fly back
and risk losing another feather?

I whispered to my heart
filled with yearning,
“Be still”

Even if the curly ropes
of his hair
leaves you trembling
with an unsatisfiable hunger

“Be very still
dear anguished heart of mine”,
but as a leaf
I quiver
clinging desperately
by a bleak bough

For soon I’ll flutter
with the wind,
and fall down
along with my sorrows

As the fallen leaves
withered and loveless,
I shall crumble and disappear