If it wasn’t the most beautiful
Thing
I’ve ever seen,
It was one of them.

Floating white seeds,
Overwhelming the air.

The wind blew down a gust
Of them,
It was as if the air was water to them,
Roaming in slow motion,
Only disturbed by the ripples
Of my breath.

The sun was almost completely gone,
Nothing but an eyelash
On the horizon,
It turned every perfect puff
Blue.

I ran out to them
Allowing childlike desires
To overtake me.
The simple pleasure
Of knowing my body was in their midst,
That they would touch me
And be soft.

The memory still haunts me,
And I don’t mind.

‘Nobody Cares’
the gravity of those words
send me reeling
into the abyss of despair

are the greatest loves
fables of a deluded woe-begone?

if compassion dissolves to materail nothingness,

if passion is the means of exhuasting unrealised fantasises and lusts,

if trusts are meant to be cruelly broken,

What Is Love?

A pack of lies?
A tantamount of deceit and devillery?
A sad parody of broken hearts and damaged souls?
Or leecherous devouring of enigmas till they’ve sapped to death?

I wish those words
wouldn’t have murdered such beautiful innocence
of a perfect love

We wonder when the Dawn
may finally grace the dark seas of the Night;

an endless abyss within which celestial beings of ethereal stardust align in
constellations
mapping Our lifelines
to places untrodden,
with disjointed souls
and weary, locked hearts.

the world hushes to a lull
in honour to the intricate crosses of Fates high above lands
  adorned by silver brilliance of the moon

I wish I too
could be asleep the thousands that are
unbeknownst of what roads their lives are strung to

I stay awake in angst
wondering if right now
I were brought any closer to You
the You I know naught but as a distant, unclaspable figment in my mind
promised in some past life of mine
the reminiscence of that fated coalescence
living heatedly within as a vague restlessness
Oh I wonder where exactly is Us mapped in the constellation I see above me...