Haven’t you beat me down enough for one existence?
This time even my soul is tired!
I’ve been found a million times
But still I get lost in rhythms
Dreaming about a better place
Where angels no longer hide
Please let me become Divine...

My pen is dripping
from my heart and soul,
hoping to grow
a bit more beautiful
each day.

I think love is what we need in the world.
We needed it so badly we created it. Then we fought over it. And we corrupted it. It even became a disease. Until we found it had a medicinal effect. It could heal.

Love seeps into the ground where we bury it. The decay leaves traces of it. So is love also in death? Love is powerful indeed.

If love can find its way in life and death, it must not be mortal like us. Perhaps we can call it Divine. It must be what we see when we look up to the sky.

That’s why we describe it in so many ways. It flows like the blood in our veins. And when we no longer have the strength in our heart, it becomes the soul of our own.

In a cottage near Tibet
an old man in his bed
  lies expecting that
   which all of us will face

    there's nothing on his mind
     he's old and nearly blind
      he leaves no one behind

       a little more ahead
        two figures lightly tread
         then suddenly stop dead
          and turn towards the shed

           then

            one walks towards the place
             where the old man rests his face
              on his old and washed out pillow case
        
               the figure step by step
                gets closer to the shed
                 and then to the man's bed

                  the old man turned his head
                   to face the figure at his bed
                                      "Finally..." he said.

I feel like a sheep in wolves' clothing.
Afraid, angry, hungry, but more than
anything
I am lonely.

Isn't it lovely
When pervy men
Pop up in your DM box
And try to make you feel
That you are a failure

Hmm
Someone's pen
Is thicker than his ****

The stars are leaving again..
Pulsars stop spinning..
Forgotten light seen again..

They were already gone..
Pulsars start spinning..
Remembered light was never gone..

Dream nebulas mix together..
Mind paint brush of the cosmos..
Colors of my soul shine together..

Portrait of distant thoughts..
Mind paint brush strokes..
Are the memories of light and your beautiful thoughts..

I'll see you again...
You were never gone..
Because you are still in my thoughts..